Nobody stole anything from Karilyna without a fight ─ and certainly not a valuable base in the midst of a heated game. She'd won it, fair and square, therefore helping her other three teammates to boost Ilvermorny into the lead, and she was more than prepared to fight to keep the crimson flag flying from the rafters. So when she caught sight of another player bearing a decidedly golden flag heading her way, the Thunderbird shifted immediately into battle mode, concentrating only on their every action. She was ready.

As the Hogwarts student neared Karilyna's territory, she narrowed chocolate-brown eyes, beginning to lift her left arm to tag them out. They came closer, closer, and closer still, and Karilyna darted out to meet them, combining a fully-extended arm with a final leap. But she'd miscalculated her distance from the opposition dreadfully, and her fingers only combed through thin air. She could only stand in horror, rooted to the spot, as the enemy ran easily to her precious, hard-earned tent, wrenching the red flag from its post and replacing it with a golden one. Was this ─ Had this just happened? Karilyna Kawahara had failed to tag someone and then stood and watched as they claimed her base as their own?

Try as she might to deny her failure, it had most certainly not been a hallucination, and so she was left with no more time to dwell on her failure. She had to run. Eyes flashing orange fire ─ both from the glaring sunlight and the burning humiliation of defeat ─ she ran for her very life, attempting to flee from the place of her pathetic loss. Shame washed over her, adding kindling to the fire, as she fairly flew over the grass. Even though the base had been hers at one point, it had taken her two attempts, and she had lost it just about immediately, her only consolation being that she'd easily evaded capture both times.

Panting from her flight, she scanned the playing field, hoping that her teammates had succeeded where she had failed, and that Ilvermorny was still leading the other schools. And they were. Relieved, she spotted Phyllis, still standing guard in front of the second base. The constant motion made it difficult for her to pick out the other Americans, but the satisfaction of three red flags catching the sunlight was enough. To win this, they'd just need to guard the bases tightly, not allowing any of them to slip through their fingers like Karilyna just had.

Obviously, she had to play her part. After everyone else on her team had performed perfectly and she most certainly had not, how could she let them down again? Even as she stood, picking out the smartest path to travel ─ she couldn't afford to get captured, of course ─ the fire continued to burn and a scowl twisted her features. And then she knew. All she wanted was to vent her anger as she ran, in every pounding of a sneakered foot on grassy soil, and feel the satisfaction as she dodged past grasping hands to claim another base… But that was just a fantastical reality she couldn't count on existing. She had to be logical. It was a character trait not commonly about her, but she certainly wasn't devoid of it.

She would have to guard. Clearly, the main objective was to claim bases, hence the name, but one couldn't simply ignore the bases they had won. Unguarded territory just made it terribly easy for it to be taken by the enemy. Of course, it was a strategy, but Karilyna personally didn't buy it. If she, a girl that was not particularly unathletic nor slow, had failed to defend her prize so spectacularly, how could simply leaving another one of her school's bases completely defenseless be any better? As if on cue, a red flag caught her eye, marking the sixth base as Ilvermorny's ─ but there was no guard. Absolutely no guard. That was curious, to say the least.

After all, they were in the lead, having possession of three bases rather than the other teams' two. They just had to hold on to those in order to win this thing. Easy, right? Not really. That certainly didn't mean Karilyna wasn't going to try, though.

For the record, she wasn't exactly against people abandoning base to claim new ones as long as they remained in possession of enough bases to win. That was their choice. She, however, needed to do whatever she could to keep that precious bit of red fabric up where it belonged, regardless of whether or not she received help. Quite frankly, she wasn't expecting any, based on the fact that her team consisted of just four students. And so she hared off over the grass, everything else a blur as she ran for base six. Her eyes narrowed as she noted another girl ahead of her, appearing to be heading for the same destination. Karilyna knew without a doubt that she was not one of the few Ilvermorny students playing, so she had to be one of the enemy. Great.

As soon as she skidded into the shade of the tent, the girl turned, feet planted firmly. She wanted Ilvermorny to win this, and she was ready to fight for it.

It was an easy snag of base #5, and somehow Ilvermorny had taken the lead despite having the least amount of people. Americans don't go out without a fight, and they were proving that today. Even if they didn't win, he hoped that Rafael had his eyes on him. He wasn't one to run around a field for fun. He would much rather be curled up with a book. His attention was grabbed when one of the girls he had captured had started speaking. He lazily turned around and looked at the girl that was dejectedly captured.

"Mm, lucky for us you're bad at it. Isn't it, Miss." He winked at her before turning back around to survey the field and how many people had been taken prisoner. Everett was tired of running at this point, so he stretched out his arms and legs to prepare for defending the base. He had already been part of capturing two bases, he might as well take a small break and spend some time just chilling out. He was already finding the game quite bland, but he couldn't just walk out. Now that he was in it there was a sense of pride for his school that he had to defend.

Stats || Stamina 8 / Evasion 6 / Strength 6 / Wisdom 7 / ArcPower 4 / Accuracy 5
Ability || Charmer | Opponents Chosen - Hogwarts + Durmstrang Team
Action ||Defend Base #5

Miranda peered around the field, trying to see how the game was going. As far as she could tell from her spot on the jail bench, the Hogwarts team wasn't doing as well as it had been in the first round, when they'd controlled almost all the bases. Now, most of its members were captured like she was. It was annoying, although the reason for her getting caught was also Miranda's fault. She should have seen the other Ilvermony student, instead of trying to tag only the one, and getting the flag stolen from right under her nose.

A light breeze ruffled her hair, and Miranda sighed, glancing around again. It was so boring just sitting here. What was the fun in waiting when you could be helping your team? Not that waiting was ever fun, but the addition made it all the more excruciating. She glared at the girl who'd tagged her, who was now standing guard over the base. It was a smart move, perhaps, but seemed to deter any rescue attempts, much to Miranda's annoyance. If only she'd succeeded in catching whoever the girl was in the first round, when she'd raced her to the base - and won, for that matter. But not enough to stop her from getting caught right after when the enemy came back with help.

Action: Sitting on a bench and acting bored
Stats:

Stamina: 5
Evasion: 6
Strength: 4
Wisdom: 6
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 4

Abilities: N/A

Alan had been in the prison for a while now and truly hoped that soon he would be able to leave it again and try to steal a base for his school. That was the goal of this game after all and he seriously wanted to get this done and over with. With Alan now getting ready to leave the prison at one point, he took some time to look around and plan his next move. He still had the hogwarts flag in his own hand however so it was an easy guess what his next objective would end up being; even for the onlookers and people who were in the game. Didn't Rafael mention something about a jail break? Alan hoped that that would be happening soon. The soon to be fourth year was really curious how the game would end as at the current time the bases seemed to be divided quite equally which could only mean that the teams at least must have been somewhat safe for the game. This was what would make it fund and worth it in the end as it would not be a one sided game but one where the end was not as predictable.

Action: Wait for jailbreak

Mentions: Cassius Eden | Interactions: Romeo Marchonné

Well... this was turning out to be entirely not as exciting as Greta might have expected. Perhaps the sight of she and Romeo were just too frightening a pair. Or perhaps they seemed so insignificant that they somehow seemed to fade into the background of non-existence and take the tent under their protection with them. Either way, for the duration that the two of them stood vigilant over their prize, nothing seemed to happen. For them, anyway. No one seemed to grant them even a sideways glance. Which, really, was all for the best. It at least meant they would have one tent, if none other.

That said, a game was not one with one tent alone (although it seemed their fellow Durmstrang peers were doing well to hold down a second). In fact, if they were to have any shot at actually winning this match, and demonstrating their prowess to the other foreign schools, they would have to take the plunge and successfully capture and hold at least one other base. And if there weren't any that were giving their own a second look, two members were wasted in its defence.

It seemed Greta wasn't the only one starting to feel somewhat restless with waiting around. A glance to her companion revealed a rueful smile directed her way followed shortly by a suggestion that sang like music to her ear. The flash of her own grin mirrored his, and without a word so much as a silent acknowledgement that he was the best, she dashed off. She had, after all, some unfinished business. One boy had bested her in claiming her first target, and she had narrowly danced out of his clutches in her defeat. A bitter-sweet victory, that. She meant to make good on it. She wasn't the only figure to race towards the Hogwarts base, either. And in it was imprisoned one of her fellows. It was a clear choice to target, and one she intended to make use of to right the fates the should have been.

Sta | 4

Str | 1

Eva | 9

Wis | 5

Arc | 7

Acc | 10

Calming Presence — An aura of calm. Allies (TEAM DURMSTRANG) gain a 10% chance to auto-hit their chosen target. This does not stack.

Action: Attempting to Capture Base #4

July 4, 2020
Campground, London Quidditch Stadium

Interactions: n/a Mentions: @Anastasia Beckett (as Alexei Petrov)

Open to Interactions

A victorious roar to rival those of a Gryffindor emitted from the small Ravenclaw as he yet again defended one of Hogwarts' few bases. Truly the siege at the fourth base was becoming one for the history books to rival the Siege of Megiddo or Troy itself. Unlike those sieges, however, he was not going to let the attackers be victorious. No, he would hold his ground and stop the coming onslaught of Durmstrang savages that sought to tarnish the good name of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The last assault was a brutal one but one in which Cassius had come out on top. As icing on the cake, he had even taken a prisoner--the same Durmstrang student that had attempted to earlier take the base. Now, though, they were securely in the makeshift 'jail' that accompanied the base. Unable to threaten Cassius' sovereignty a third time.

But he was not the sole threat on the field. Both opponent schools seemed determined to mount full offenses and he could not allow the base to fall. Not after all his hard work so far. To do so would be to bring shame upon his house and school! And so Cassius crouched low again and waited, the gangly boy ready to spring into action should he be forced to defend the base yet again. Cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war.

STA 5 | EVA 5 | STR 0 | WIS 10 | ARC 10 | ACC 5
Abilities: n/a

Action: Defend base [4]

The posting window is closed for round four. Those who wish to post must do so after moderation is released.

@May Moonstar @Lizzie Verdine @Lydia Cooper @Amadea Campbell @Ariana Walker @Cassius Eden @Miranda Everest @Alan Vanes @Cassandra Ironwoods @Charles Simmons @Anastasia Beckett @Adam Harringtom @Ivy Bellamy @Serena Towers @Margo White @Evelynn Decipio @Piérre Marchonné @Ruby Cazares @Bridget Collins @Thora Larkston @Willow Anderson @Katrina Walker @Tyranni Whitethorn

There was absolutely nothing okay about the game ensuing before the Thunderbird’s very eyes.

To watch the Americans’ impressive grip on the lead was… unsettling, to say the least, the Captain couldn’t help but notice as he watched the progression of events, his posture tense and a hand threading through his silky brown hair. With four bases in the possession of Ilvermorny and an only-growing number of jailed individuals, it was hard to properly determine what would happen next, whether the Red Team would prevail, or the tides would be turned at the very last moment – but of course, worrying had never fixed anything, not had it done any decent commentating. The Gryffindor would waste no time in steeling his nerves, a hard look forcing itself onto his face as he squandered the butterflies dancing about in his stomach. They were Hogwarts, they were undefeatable! They’d faced giants, vampyr mosps, survived in the presence of hags, only to be defeated by a group of four juveniles? Surely the Americans couldn’t subdue the British twice. They had been fighting on the wrong turf before. But this was Hogwarts’ playing field.

Deciding he’d been silent long enough, the boy lifted the megaphone to his lips, his words carrying across the field – “Ilvermorny retains the lead! But can they keep it?” A lilting tone in his voice, and a well-feigned evil grin spreading across the expanses of his face, he put a slight chill into each individual syllable, doing his best to foreshadow a turning of the tides. After all, it wouldn’t be long until the child called a jailbreak. Even so, his acting hadn’t fooled him – deciding he was at a loss for words, he looked at Tyr, head cocked to the side and lip bit between his teeth. “I don’t know, Tyr,” he muttered shaking his head. “It’s too close – I don’t like it.” The young boy did appear distressed that Hogwarts was not in the lead, nevermind the fact that was a game. "It would be interesting if anyone chose now to sabotage the Americans." Her eyes glinted with a bit of mischief, but she quickly reigned in that side of her. She was supposed to be professional. It was part of her job to monitor this game and ensure it went off without a hitch.

But Rafael wasn’t listening – his eyes were glued to the field, the hairs on the back of his neck standing stick-straight as he tensely continued his spectating. What would happen? Only time would tell…

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base I ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Defenders─ Arjan Oberoi - ─Prisoners─ Ariana Walker Lydia Cooper -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base II ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Defenders─ Phylicia Stanwood - ─Prisoners─ Miranda Everest - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base III ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Defenders─ Romeo Marchonne - ─Prisoners─ - - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base IV ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Defenders─ Cassius Eden - ─Prisoners─ Alexei Petrov - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base V ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Defenders─ Everett Brooks - ─Prisoners─ Lizzie Verdine Amadea Campbell -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base VI ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Defenders─ Karilyna Kawahara - ─Prisoners─ Alan Vanes - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base VII ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Defenders─ - - ─Prisoners─ - - -

[font=colonna mt]Base I[/font]
──────Arjan──────

Though Durmstrang was far from winning the game, they certainly weren’t losing, either – Base I, after all, stood proudly in the possession of the Blue Team, the sun battering relentlessly down upon the blindingly white tent cover, as if beckoning for the attention of all those opposing the Russians. It was, in its finest form, a challenge, and one proudly presented by the universe at that, a tantalizing treat held only inches, mere centimeters out of reach of all those competing – it wouldn’t be an easy target, not with the strong, handsome Arjan Oberoi guarding its facets. However… actually, there wasn’t any room for a ‘however’ here. Arjan’s eyes would search the expanses of the Base I territory for any perpetrators to his Base’s peace… only to find none. He was allegedly too fearsome an opponent. Lydia and Ariana would sit in the bench adjacent to him, chatting or silent, the commentators couldn’t tell. For the most part, however, the base was inactive.

This was a fact that did little to console the Gryffindor Captain. Rafael, in fact, regarded the silent base with a deep frown, his arms crossed as his eyes searched the scenery in a forlorn manner. Where was Hogwarts, and why weren’t they waging way against the Russians? It didn’t matter now. Shaking his head, he decided to announce this to the field. “Base I remains in the possession of Durmstrang!” The words held a bitter taste on the lips of the boy. He would know nothing about the flirtatious conversation ensuing just beyond earshot. Meanwhile, a bit zoned out, the girl was brought back to reality by the sound of Rafael's announcement. "Unchallenged by anyone this round. Interesting. I know people were talking about how intimidating Durmstrang was on the Quidditch Pitch. Still, I would have thought someone was brave enough to go against them, maybe someone from your house, since many Gryffindor seem to like to charge in head first without thinking things through." She was falling into the stereotype of the different houses, but at this point she yearned for some friendly banter. Being stuck around so many from House Slytherin has been boring, and she had spent the rest of the school year hiding away after the secret ball. Rafael, rolling his eyes, scoffed, a small grin spreading across his face. He didn’t have an answer for that one… yet. “Fair enough” he muttered, almost wryly, his megaphone rocking back and forth in his hand. There were probably better things to focus on, anyways. Like the progression of the game…

Arjan, uncontested, retains possession of the first base.

[font=colonna mt]Base II[/font]
──────Phylicia──────

Phylicia must have been expecting a challenge. It was a shame, then, that none came.

Ilvermorny was the team to beat this game – there was no mistaking their steely determination in the face of adversity, having maintained the lead for at least two rounds with a total of four players to their team name. A brilliant feat, if the Captain did say so himself. However, their success would lead to a whole torrent of new problems – were the other teams afraid of the Americans? Or were they simply disregarding the property that was in the possession of the red team in favor of capturing other, easier targets? The answer to this inquiry wouldn’t be evident to the male commentator, whose good spirits were only spoiling with time, a scowl forming on his face as his eyes darkened in premature defeat. The Second Base in question remained uncontested, much like the First Base – the fearless guardian Phylicia, upon scanning the field, would find no enemies to contest her red flag, nor a single glance to be spared in her direction. A blessing? A curse? The answer to this inquiry, of course, was all in the eye of the beholder. Regardless, the base would be left peaceful for the time being, Phylicia receiving no entertainment for her troubles.

"Are you bloody kidding me?” Rafael lamented to Tyr, shaking his head with a hard gaze. “This is bullshit. How is it that a base remains uncontested?” He would shake his head, his eyes flickering over the turn of events going about before his very eyes, an almost pouting gaze falling over his face. He would proceed to sit Indian-Style upon the commentators’ podium, setting the megaphone between his legs and wrapping his arms around the barrel. “’S dumb,” he’d mutter absently, setting his chin on the tip. “Don’t even think this one’s worth commentating.”

Phylicia, uncontested, retains possession of the second base.

[font=colonna mt]Base III[/font]
──────Romeo v Iris──────

Romeo had an important duty to tend to.

That was, to protect the Third Base from capture. Of course, the boy was no stranger to guarding locations for his team – he had to be somewhat good at it, to have snagged a position of keeper on the Durmstrang Quidditch Team, right? However, guarding wasn’t the easiest job when the offense was the American Team, Ilvermorny. Iris, after all, had seldom lost when facing off against one of her opponents, and she looked far from abandoning her winning streak now, appearing to be a fearsome vision from the commentator’s position, where Rafael was practically on the edge of his seat. He didn’t want Pierre to lose – even if the kid was gunning for Durmstrang. Rafael had learned not to question Pierre. The kid was a little off his rocker.

Iris would progress into the third base territory at a steady pace, her stance perfect and eyes trained upon the field as she maneuvered forward carefully. Romeo, as brilliant as he was a guardian, would have little chance to stop his insightful opponent – his hand would brush outwards to touch the American, only to fall upon air. The American was simply too fast, her movements concise and calculated as to dodge at the perfect moment, ducking behind her opponent and under the shade of the last base. It would only take a moment to fasten a red flag to the third base, claiming it for Ilvermorny. However, when she would turn around – she would find no Keeper. Romeo was gone, having long since fled the territory in the name of fighting for another day. A smart move.

Rafael fought the urge to yell after ‘Pierre’ again, his frown only growing as the moments wore on. It wasn’t fair – none of it was. Nonetheless, Rafael shook the dismay from his head, coughing into his fist. “Ilvermorny steals another base!” There was an air of contempt to his tone, or maybe it was irritation – they were only a team of four. How hard could they be to beat? Only time would tell.

───Romeo─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 59 Accuracy Check [d20] 4 + 8 = 12

───Iris─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 11 Accuracy Check [d20] 6 + 8 = 14- SUCCESS

[font=colonna mt]Base IV[/font]
──────Cassius v Rudolph, Greta & Cielle──────

The odds were against Cassius from the start.

Durmstrang, though still behind in their winning streak, was quickly learning from its mistakes, even going as far as to take notes from the Americans’ success strategy – this strategy being, of course, strength in staggering numbers and a powerful pre-planned offense. At least, it looked pre-planned. How else could they have converged into the field at the same time? Were they simply that skilled? It didn’t matter. What mattered in the moment was the Durmstrang Tag-Team of Rudolph Novikov and Cielle Johanson’s progression into the Base IV territory, their gazes determined and footsteps steady as they challenged one of Hogwarts’ only bases, followed closely by beautiful Greta Fransson, star seeker for the Durmstrang Team. Even moments away from attack, the endgame was more than obvious, as was the result of the offensive attack – it would be, in colorful terms, a bloodbath.

The capture would take mere moments, the three Russian children acting with poised, skillful and precise movement – Cassius would only have moments to focus on a target, even less time to reach out towards the beautiful Cielle, his hand brushing nothing but air as the girl gracefully slipped past his fingertips. It would be too late to salvage the moment – all three opponents had slipped past, Cielle wasting no time in freeing the imprisoned Alexei, Rudolph and Greta making quick work to hook the new flag into its place. And Durmstrang’s luck didn’t stop there. With nowhere to go, Cassius would shortly find himself occupying the same place as his captive – the Bench.

Rafael sighed, looking over tentatively at Tyr. “I don’t like this,” he lamented. “I don’t like this at all.” He shook his head, biting his lip as the megaphone raised itself to his lips – “Durmstrang claims Base 4!” Still sitting Indian-style, he sat the cone underneath his chin, pouting in the slightest. That Ravenclaw kid had been onto something. Luckily enough, it wouldn’t be long until he was released. Hogwarts was failing. It was no surprise to her though that after the events of the last year, the students likely were exhausted, defeated, and unsure. Somehow great misfortunes always seemed to follow those of Hogwarts recently, and this game was no exception. "There is still time," she mumbled under her breath. She knew that Hogwarts was in all logical terms, utterly defeated. Yet despite this, the girl still held to a small flicker of hope.

- Roll Tracker -

Who does Cassius go after? [1] Rudolph, [2] Greta, or [3] Cielle? Roll was 3

───Cassius─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 15 Accuracy Check [d20] 5 + 5 = 10

───Cielle─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 1 Evasion Check [d20] 6 + 8 = 14 - SUCCESS

The base is captured. Cassius attempts to escape.

───Cassius Escape Rolls───
10% Auto-Success
[d100] 11

50% Escape Odds
[d100] 49 - FAIL

[font=colonna mt]Base V[/font]
──────Everett v Slava──────

It wasn’t a secret that Ilvermorny had long since secured a lead – however, nothing lasted forever, evident by the hungry looks coming from all their nearby opponents. Now that the Americans were on top, defending their title wouldn’t be such an easy task. However, Everett was no normal player – the Horned Serpent knew what he was to do, calculating every new opponent on the field and readying himself for attack as he stepped up to defend the fifth base from the clutches of his opponents. The base certainly wouldn’t be easy to acquire. Of course, simplicity had never stopped Durmstrang. Slava, knew the price of losing, having only recently been apprehended by another Ilvermorny opponent, and seemed determined not to allow it to happen again. The two seemed evenly matched. Who would come out on top?

The Russian boy would progress forward, his feet quick as he advanced on his target – Rett would attempt to swipe out, only to find that the Beater had performed quite the spectacular dodge, right underneath his outstretched arm. A reflex of his Quidditch Role, perhaps? Did it matter? Finding that his attempt had been faulty, and laying eyes upon the newly instated blue base, Everett would quickly learn of the danger he found himself in. Great Horned Serpent had an instinct of its own – running. If it meant fighting another day, right? However, the vision didn’t exactly help the commentators’ spirits. Rafael growled at the very indication that someone had taken something from his Re – he meant, uh, Rett. He should have been more careful about what he wished for. Nonetheless, the repossession of the base did mean pose a challenge for the Americans. That was a win in and of itself. “Base Five goes to Durmstrang! An impressive effort!” A slow clap ensued as the boy kicked his legs against the podium, his Indian Style position unfurling into a messy sitting stance.

Meanwhile, the realization of the feat the Americans were performing finally was hitting the young Slytherin. Her own ambition, a trait well prided in Slytherin, prevented her from ignoring the situation as she attempted to analyze what Ilvermorny was doing that proved so successful. There were only four students. Four! How they were achieving this great feat was something she was unable to comprehend. Turning towards the boy still sitting on the ground, she squatted down. "You don't think they are cheating somehow and we just haven't caught them do you?" She didn't feel the need to specify who "they" were, as she had a feeling the boy already knew and may have been wondering the same thing. This inspired a thread of thought within the young Gryffindor – his eyes narrowed and he looked up, as if scrutinizing his fellow commentator. “You think?" He asked, fully serious in his inquiry. Then, turning his gaze towards the field once more, he couldn’t help but scowl, a deep, dark look seldom seen upon his handsome features. “Maybe so, Tyr..” he lamented quietly, allowing himself to ponder it further. “Maybe so..”

- Roll Tracker -

───Everett─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 68 Accuracy Check [d20] 2 + 5 = 7

───Slava─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 50 Accuracy Check [d20] 20 + 7 -1 = 26 - SUCCESS

───Everett Escape Rolls───
10% Auto-Success
[d100] 56

50% Escape Odds
[d20] 79 - SUCCESS

[font=colonna mt]Base VI[/font]
──────Karilyna v Vita──────

Base Six was an interesting case, having been subject to all sorts of possession over the last few rounds of the game. And the swapping of possession as far from over – having just escaped the seventh base following the spectacular capture by one Cash Ironwoods, Karilyna was most likely ready to redeem her team as well as herself in the name of victory. However, she wasn’t the only one with eyes for lucky number six – Vita, having just been liberated from the confines of the sixth base, now found herself looking upon the same destination she’d just escaped, finding a challenge within the red flag hanging from its rafters. Base VI would look better in blue, would it not? The two seemed even matched, the captain couldn’t help but note as he watched them prepare for attack. Which begged the question – who would come out on top?

There would only be one way to find out. Karilyna would steel her nerves, rushing forward as to meet her attacker head-on – it shouldn’t have been a surprise to the commentators that her attack proved successful. After all, Ilvermorny was far from an ill-talented team. Vita would attempt vainly to dodge, but alas, her efforts were for futile, as the hand of the terrifying Karilyna shortly brushed upon her shirt, signaling yet another imprisonment on the part of the Durmstrang Player. Rafael, from the commentator’s position, shook his head with a sigh, his chin coming to rest upon the megaphone. “Dammit,” he muttered, shaking his head. Then, wryly lifting the same megaphone to his lips, “Base Six remains in the possession of Ilvermorny! Yay.” His voice was sarcastic, his eyes contorted in a squint as he recognized his betrayal of once an impartial façade. He did care, he vainly thought. It was about time the commentators did something about this jail thing. If Ilvermorny captured one more base…

───Karilyna─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 2 Accuracy Check [d20] 10 + 5 = 15 - SUCCESS

───Vita─── 10% Auto-Success [d100] 59 Accuracy Check [d20] 1 + 6 = 7 [CRIT FAIL]

[font=colonna mt]Base VII[/font]
──────Barren──────

The last Hogwarts Base, much to the surprise of the Gryffindor Captain, saw no action – no one graced its prison, no one strove to claim it. No one defended it. The tent, in fact, looked strangely lonely in this instance, a bit dead, even. However, it remained in Hogwarts possession – the last base of its kind. A small reassurance to the commentating – the Captain would release a breath of relief, specifically in the same of some semblance of salvaging on Hogwarts’ part. The group was spread too thin. “Hogwarts retains possession of the seventh base!” he commented anyways, looking at Tyr, as if pondering her thoughts. It was all he could do to salvage the little hope he had for his team.

Hogwarts, uncontested, retains possession of the seventh base.

[font=colonna mt]Jailbreak[/font]

It was time to pull all the stops. Ilvermorny had been in the lead far too long – a jailbreak, in the Gryffindor Captain’s opinion, was long overdue. A small, dangerous grin crept onto his forlorn face as he rose from his Indian Style position, clutching his megaphone and swinging it around in a circle, much like an athlete doing arm exercises. Then, lifting the amplifier to his lips, he called for the attention of everyone on the field – “Listen up!” he shouted. “This is a Jailbreak! In layman’s terms,” he began reiterating obvious technicalities in a fickle, almost condescending manner, “if you’ve been tagged this round, you’re free. If you were tagged last round, you’re free. In fact, if you are in any way imprisoned,” he laughed, “you have permission to wreak havoc on Ilvermorny.” Of course, he was too giddy to realize that Durmstrang had swapped the lead from the Americans. It was all he would say before dropping the megaphone to his side, looking over at Tyr. His eyebrows were wiggling, an ill-concealed grin fighting its way on his face. It was time to turn the tides, he couldn’t help but grin, a thought that only ignited his excitement. Hogwarts was at the bottom. There was only one way to go from there.

If your character has been imprisoned in this or any round, they have been automatically been released!

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base I ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Prisoners─ - - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base II ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Prisoners─ - - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base III ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Prisoners─ - - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base IV ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Prisoners─ - - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base V ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Prisoners─ - - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base VI ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Prisoners─ - - -

╔═══♛═══╗ 🏳 Base VII ╚═══✦═══╝ ─Prisoners─ - - -

OOC: Rolls will be AUGUST 31st-SEPTEMBER 1st! Make sure to get your actions in before then. Happy RPing!

Mentions: Cassius Eden | Interactions: Rudolph & Cielle

There are occasions where retreat is a tactical advantage. When a step back affords an opportunity to save further loss and to rally and regroup. As much as it might feel in the moment like conceding defeat, it can be a valid — and even necessary — action. However, wars are not won on home soil. Defence alone can only net you so far when the assault is unending. As important it is to maintain a solid stance and stem the barrage, so too is it necessary to strike forth at weaknesses to break the chain of supply. At her friend and teammate's encouragement, Greta sprinted off, flag firmly gripped in hand, and her eyes set on the object of triumph that had previously evaded her grasp.

It became clear very quickly that she wasn't the only one with their eyes set on the fourth base. No fewer than two allies could be scene racing to its location from different directions and the nearer she approached, the wider Greta's grin became. As much as she might have liked to test her mettle against the boy that had proved quicker in their last head-to-head, she much preferred a win and there was little doubt in her mind that he would crumble under the combined forces. And, true to that notion, they quickly out-manoeuvred him. Not that he was able to put up much of a fight. As he dashed after Cielle, they made quick work to rip the Hogwarts flag from its foundation and replace it with one of their own. As soon as the switch was made, they even managed to tag the Hogwarts' boy, landing him firmly in their prison.

A glance about the little clearing showed that things were looking up for them. Three of the seven tents now sported flags of blue — a good sign. Only there were also three bearing crimson. That would hardly do. At least they had a selection of opponents firmly locked up, however. There would at least be some measure of advantage gained from that and a period of respite to attempt to maintain their current holdings while perhaps securing another.

It was while Greta was in the process of deciding her next move that the announcement — which until now had been largely ignored given that the megaphone made the words that were already difficult enough to understand, distorted and impossible to decipher — sounded. For one reason or another, this one caught her attention towards the speaker momentarily before looking to her teammates for clarification. Only to see the boy they had JUST captured walk free.

[In Russian] "No you don't!" She shot out, reflexively taking a step to hinder his progress, not quite realizing what was happening. Even as she approached, however, it quickly became clear that he wasn't the only prisoner walking free. Each and every other one from each of the other bases was as well. It was the fact that noone seemed to be making a move to stop them that ultimately rooted Greta's feet to the spot and wiped the expression of indignation from her features. [Still in Russian] "What?" She gaped, crestfallen as the truth of the situation revealed itself. "How is this fair?"

Clearly, there were rules to this game that she didn't understand. Perhaps next time, she'd petition to have all activities explained in the primary languages of all attending schools to make it less discriminatory. Still, if the other schools thought that the loss of their prisoners was going to stop the mighty school of Durmstrang from reigning victorious over this match, they thought wrong. Giving her skirts a flick and aggressively straightening them, Greta took up a station in front of their flag that afforded her a clear a view of as much of the clearing as possible. They might have had to give up their prisoner, but she would see that they didn't lose this base.

Sta | 4

Str | 1

Eva | 9

Wis | 5

Arc | 7

Acc | 10

Calming Presence — An aura of calm. Allies (TEAM DURMSTRANG) gain a 10% chance to auto-hit their chosen target. This does not stack.

Action: Guarding Base #4

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@Amadea Campbell

Jailbreak. That was music to Lizzie's ears. She had hated it just sat at her former base wondering how on earth the smelly Durmstrangs had even got past their defence system. It was so unfair. Hogwarts was no longer winning meaning that the whole reason she came to play this game was gone. It had flown out of the window with no chance of coming back. Unless, the girls decided they wanted to get back at the Russians.

The insults she had gotten from that girl was astonishing. Lizzie had no lack in athletic sports. She was always the one that encouraged it. Never letting anyone stop the 'exercise' until they were all passed out on the ground.

She quickly beckoned Amadea to come over to her and whispered, "We need to get that base back. Even if it the last chance we have." Lizzie said pointing towards the fifth base that was still in the possession of Durmstrang. She growled slightly and balled her hands up into fists. "We have to make sure Hogwarts isn't shoved into a mud and made fun of!"

It was finale. Lizzie had decided she was getting the base back whether she liked it or not. The girl started running towards the base in with no intent of leaving them alone. It had been their base to start off with and so it would be theirs until their last breath. The blonde turned around and waved Dea over as she neared the base with a golden flag in hand.