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Overland Group: The big cat sniffs in disgust as the fight reaches it's bloody conclusion.
'*sniff* Waking me up, to flaunt your victories. Silly humans.' With a flick of her tail, Luce turns around and moves back towards the outside - however she decides to patrol rather than going straight back to sleep.
Overland Group: Luce awakes from her slumber as Caladrel enters the room, she smells the blood & knows that there's trouble. Shaking off the remnants of her nap she bounds after the druid as he picks up Jerry's equipment.
'What trouble has my foolish pet gotten himself in....again?'
Overland Group: Stretching out on the warm and dry straw, the lioness enjoys the rest after the long run. Her muscles relax and she stretches languidly against one of the timber columns, claws extending to give them a small scratch - marking it as her place. She decides to preen and give herself a wash, taking her time in the act. The stable might not be as grand a place as she has been however the fewer other animals means her senses aren't as assailed as when she has to concede some room to horses.
Overland Group: The lioness pads gently into the warmth of the stables, glad to be out of the inclement weather & far away from that horrid forest. After her servant has removed all her riding gear and left her abode, she stretches out amongst the straw and begins getting herself clean.
Luce twitches her whiskers as Caladrel talks to her, the soft chanting fills her muscles with strength and stamina and she stretches out her sleek form. The golden fur seems to glow in the sunlight, a warmth and power emanating from within. Jerry seeing that his companion is literally pawing at the ground to be underway, climbs atop her and nods to Caladrel. Thus they hit the road, even before the others have left for the station in the town. The fast grace of the runner eats the miles as they stride and flow down the roads, the noble cannot keep the smile from his face. For this is when he feels most exhilarated - on the open roads, no responsibilities or worries - with his friend, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
I've a move of 50' so might be able to make decent time (especially in that heavy bloke that sits on me goes on a diet & doesn't carry too much) and with a fast Caladriel the pair of us might be able to get their in a day or so.... ....plus 'Race to Brighton/University' is a great Trope.
The lioness lets out a pleased rumble at Caladrels' touch, pushing her head insistently against his hand. Clearly she agrees with his assessment, rather than Jeremiah's more balanced view.
After the lance clatters off her, annoyed she lashes out at the tentacled thing - like batting at a chaotic ball of yarn. Then she nips forward to bite the base, at her riders insistence.
"Now, buck up old girl. I'll get you some steak when we return to the estate." the noble tries to placate the cautious lioness and goad her into a charge.
The promise of fresh meat sends her careening towards the tentacled creation, happy that her plan of free meal has worked.
Rearing up of her hind legs, rampant, she wheels to face the threat. "There, there girl. Move and rend their tendrils from their trunk."
She refuses to charge towards the alien creatures.
Powerful honey coloured leonine legs push the duo onwards, whilst Jeremiah slides the lance from the saddle into a couched position. Like a golden arrow released from a taught bow, they fly towards the enemy - without even a chance to stop. Moving through the whipping beast, the noble braces his lance for the impact. Keeping the metal tip pointed towards the thick trunk, expecting it to be rubbery or tough an inhuman, he focusses upon his opponent. Whilst as she leaps past the creature, an errant paw spears out to swipe the being.
With a wide low sweep, the noble scrapes a shower of sparks across the cavern. They sparkle into Luces' eyes, hence she lunges forward and tries to bite the creature. They nearly dazzle her into missing, though the nature of the creature might make her natural bite fail.
Luce sniffs the damp tunnels, a big grumpy at having to squeeze underground and the fact that the little badger in front of her is keeping out of paws' reach. From behind her Jeremiah holds a lantern up so that he can see as the natural darkness returns.
With a low rumble Luce pads forward, making sure to be near or at the front with her heavy load.
"Anyone does this to me I go NOM!"
With a purring that half-sounds like laughter at the competency of the man leading her down the gorge. Moving with a flowing feline grace, she's still ill at ease with the forest.
'Hah, yucky goo....it'll taste bad like bark girl.' Luce thinks as she rears up, seeing if Jerry is worthy of her aid or even to ride her. Whispers flick the edge of the goo and weigh heavy upon her muzzle, the feline is obviously upset.
Luce growls softly, as if emphasizing that nature is in fact deadly and uncaring of the niceties of etiquette. The gummy sap in her mouth, she's unsure if she wants to take another bite.
Luce flinches back from the explosive cracks of the Smitty's weaponry. Looking on as the bark from the nearby tree explodes, splinters flying and pale rotten wood showing underneath.
Spotting the man opposite attacking Luce tries for another bite, hoping that this one won't end up too sappy. 'Strange wood ladies, need to stop poking me.' The lion ducks from the attacks, their limbs sweeping past.
Luce is slightly put off by the fire and the general bustle of the melee, being used to attacking alone or with her rider. EDIT: The vines and grasses pull at the lionesses paws, irritating the erasable companion.
"I'd be lion if I said that they were unfunny."
Slipping away from the vines that grasp at her lithe limbs, the lioness looks up just in time to see the perverted dryad approach and throw a fist at her. The gnarled and clawed hand just misses Luce, thanks to the weight having slid from her back. Cool blue eyes regard the woodland creature and her predatory instincts kick in. At first she decides to back off from the creature, but then realises the silly human that gets her food and sits on her has fallen off. Thus she gets angry and lashes out. Her head darting forward sharply to bite at the creature, however as the fire rolls towards her she moves her head at the last instance.
Luce feels the man upon her back slump at the arrival of the wrong woodland creatures, then vines and the forest floor erupts under her paws. She growls and wants to get away from this terrible place, it smells wrong, looks wrong and feels wrong.
She jumps away and pulls away from the creepers that twist serpentine towards her.
Opening an iris blue eye, Luce regards the elf crouched nearby. With a slight sniff of her damp nose, is quickly followed by a snuffle as the acerbic lady's scent irritates the cat. However she closes her eyes again, satisfied that the elf is of no harm to her.
'Indoor bad, but better than diseased ground.' she looks around the room carefully, feeling Jerry's mollifying hand upon her side. She glances around and sees a fire. Butting her head against the nobles thigh, he undoes the strap upon the saddle by reflex. Walking across the room, she flops down before the hearth with a slight thump and curls up. The saddle slides from her back.
Seeing her friendly human entwinned and smelling the blood in the air, she moves forward to rip at the flesh of the serpent.
The feline looks around the area, her nose twitching at the stench. Whiskers pulled back to her face.
Uneasilly she moves into the dying wood, the hoary countryside devoid of nutrition Luce is glad of the taste of the meat pie that still lingers softly - the last whispers of a dream. 'Best go help the human...' With a silent cautious pad she moves forward to the forest, with a little sniff and a lick of her dark lips she turns to the mule. 'Oh that's no mule, smells like poultry, they too small to eat.' The feline turns away from Sylvia's pack animal and knocks into Jerry's thigh. The noble reaches into the pack upon her back and takes out a shimmering chain shirt and a silken shirt over a soft padded undershirt. Without any self-consciousness he strips off his high quality shirt. In the dappled light of the forests edge, pale sun slides across the thick strap muscles of his torso. Deep and intricate tribal tattoo's are inscribed upon it, at once both pictographs and seeming to tell a tale. However he slips his armour smoothly over the bare flesh, covering it. The lioness follows as Jerry takes the lead moving further into the forest, following the trail. At every watering place, or every mile or so - he will check for tracks of the constable or any nasty of the forest.
Luce looks up at the human standing beside her, with a little sniff to indicate that he's allowed to be in her regal presence. Shifting her back under the finely made saddle, it slips into place. She's not adversed to the ride, especially with him but to go out again today.... well she'll just have to make him pay for the insolence with a fast run. A heavy crunch of gravel under her pads, she shifts in position to look at the doorway, someone was coming outside to join Jerry. Someone who didn't smell quite right...
Well that would only be once a month, as they need 5kg on meat a day. And I'm sure Luce could go stag - or for 2 cp have a rooster. :P
ROAR! (this is Jerry's lion.) He rescued her from a travelling circus/zoo run by tinkers. Upon seeing her sorry state, he nursed her back to health - feeding her on deer on his fathers' estate. She sleeps in a lean-to stables next to the chimney breast in one of the out-buildings. (seems that old Jerry has a thing for helping distressed ladies) Anyway they are both now done, I believe. Jerry still has some money to spend, but being a fiscally responsible chap is saving up.
rrrrr" she growls loudly as the poisonous globules coat her fur. She looks to the creature and darts towards it, he long powerful legs pushing her. Then suddenly she alters her direction to pounce upon the 'King' from behind. Slavering jaws find flesh as the unsuspecting goblin is bitten hard, Sigvards words giving her a warm feeling inside and causing her to forget her usual disinclination to violence. Throwing the Goblin King to once side she shakes her coat free of the putrid poison.
"Meeeoooww?" :3 Luce momentarilly forgets her languages.
Spoiler: Yep, true Kendall. And they'll be more maintenance next week! Anyway night.
rrrr" The wolf growls as her friend is hurt.
The rousing song of Sigvard punctuated by a yelp and splat causes Luce to look around at the man. Her ire raised with these creature; she kicks the loose dirt of the floor into the creatures eyes. The power of the grit is quite significant as it cuts into their flesh, causing them to be off guard. "If you were a real King you'd b' guarded by real knights not just a couple of spitlickles." she taunts the blinded King.
'Wow, I am not used to changing shape so rapidly. This is a learning experience for sure.'
Aye, that's what I am assuming. And that we get to put the boot into some Slavers.
Luce smiles from the bottom of the cliff, a wolfish predatory grin.
Luce watches the goblin run away; [i]'git outta 'ere, ya little rapscallion.' She thinks then realises reinforcements and information could be useful so she lopes after him and tries to wrap her arms around the goblin. Swinging through the trees, her long limbs catching branches Luce uses her momentum to enable her become a blur of movement.
Luce looks behind her as she grips the bark of the tree; "Ooooggh" - 'My we are lucky, the ambush is not going well.' The wild eyes turn on the goblin with the sword and where he has draw a thin red line across her shoulder; "Aaawwwaaggh" - 'That was very naughty of you, time for a ride' The enlongated primate arms, grab at the goblin. Attempting to crush his bony wrist where he holds the steel blade. Then with a wrench she throws the goblins gangly body from his position on the tree. Cartwheeling his flailing limps strike branches as it screeches a high pitched whine as it trying to hang on.
Luce sees him fall and opens her mouth in a wide primate smile, then she jumps from the boughs onto his body. Hoping that the soft goblin flesh will cushion her fall, or at least that she will hurt him.
With a raspy monkey laughter she lopes from the broken body of the goblin to the next tree. With speed she flits through the woods as if its her natural terrain and grasps the next tree. The thick bark, it's rough and mossy texture against her heavy hands. With a rapid contaction of her muscles she tries to haul herself up the tree.
The shadowy spirit in concert flits through the trees to menace and scare another goblin. It looks up at the goblin above it in the trees.
Luce the ape attempts to climb up the tree.
I need to practise my Funky Gibon. ♫ Whoo, wooo, woo, the funky gibbon. ♪
Her long ape arms grab at handfuls of the blood-vine her paws slightly recoiling at the feel of the slimy ambulent carnivorous plant.
Feeling the creature go flying she hoots out; and lopes off rapidly into the underbrush before starting to climb a tree where a gobling is.
Thanks, so it's more carrot rather than stick. In AD&D it was -4/-3/-2 depending on your class (with an extra -1 for Bladesingers). Sorry Tiberious, I should have chill winded you away, then done the Thorn Spray. Damn brain going iffy. Sorry about the -3 to defenses.
Luce growls as the myconid wobbles past her a cloud of spores drifting behind it as it rushes past. She tries to knock him backwards putting off his charge as her claws squish against it's body.
If possible: Knowlege on the monsters?
Savage Rend:
(Ref);
Standard Action – Beast Form, Implement, Primal range: Melee touch; one creature 1d20 + 5 1d8 + 4 Hit: The target slides 1 square.
With a look of shock as the spore cloud drifts over the group Luce ducks her head and with a snarl. "Me Ma taught us t' best way to get rid of mould." She growls as she leaps forward, hands turning into paws. He canines elongate as her form stretches into a mountain lion, landing next to the creature biting at the spongy flesh. The change ridding the spores from her lungs and the adreniline kick from the pain and shock deadening any soporific effect. Getting ahold of its leg she flings the fungal form through the air lettinng off a streamer of spores in the already saturated air, it lands down next to he with a thump as she gently huffs in pride.
Savage Rend:
(Ref);
Standard Action – Beast Form, Implement, Primal range: Melee touch; one creature 1d20 + 5 1d8 + 4 Hit: The target slides 1 square
Luce growls knowing that if the woman gets away then others are in danger; he blood pulses through her feral veins. She is slightly surprised at the blood-lust that is making her mouth water at the prospect of her prey. Is this Torags influence?
Luce looks back at the cages, forlornly at hopefully where her brother sits; "We'll get you out, but she must be punished. Never to do this again..." With a growl Luce slumps forward and shifts into a rangy wolf, with a snarl she sets of running after Morgana. A bound and she is up the stairs behind the evil priestess. A swipe of her claws and she tries to send her tumbling off the stairs to the hard flagged ground below.
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