Tiger[/@ch_1] pads out of the temple, eyes glowing with eldritch light.]
Tiger slips into the undergrowth, his orange-and-black coat rippling beneath the moon. His muscles flow beneath his fur, each movement silent and purposeful. Behind him, a hush falls as a band of hooded worshipers gather, ready to follow the mystical trail he leaves in his wake. The temple’s magic lingers in the air—an invitation to both danger and destiny.
The magical residue pulses beneath their feet, shimmering as they follow. One whispers a prayer, clutching a talisman shaped like a tiger’s paw. Far ahead, Tiger melds with the shadows—his senses sharpened, his nose catching the scent of sweat, steel, and greed. The jungle’s breath quickens as he closes in on his quarry.
Jeffrey[/@ch_2]. The air is tense, the scent of fear just beginning to mingle with the smoke.]
Jeffrey stands tall, his sword drawn, rallying his men with gritted teeth.
"Ready yourselves, you dogs! Something’s out there, and it means to take what’s ours!"
From the shadowed edge, Tiger emerges, his eyes burning with eldritch fire. The bandits falter, but Jeffrey points his blade defiantly.
Tiger[/@ch_1] lifts a paw, ancient words rumbling from his throat. The ground trembles, roots and rock surging upward to form a barricade—a living wall encircling the camp. Torches flicker and bandits back away, panic rising.]
"You have stolen what is sacred. Surrender, and your end will be swift."
Bandits exchange fearful glances, but Jeffrey steps forward, voice cold and resolute.
"I fear no beast, magic or not. Face me, monster!"
The camp becomes a cage, every eye fixed on the duel about to unfold.
Jeffrey[/@ch_2] circles, swinging his blade in deadly arcs, while Tiger weaves and pounces, eldritch power pulsing with each swipe. Metal scrapes fur, and claws rend leather; the fight is brutal, primal, and desperate.]
Jeffrey lands a glancing blow, but Tiger retaliates with a roar that shakes the very trees. Sparks of sorcery dance along his stripes as he batters down the bandit leader’s guard. Blood splashes the dirt as claws and teeth find their mark, and finally Tiger pins Jeffrey, crippling his sword arm and shattering his will.
Tiger[/@ch_1] stands triumphant. His worshipers pour into the camp, binding frightened bandits and gathering up the stolen treasures. The jungle seems to breathe a sigh of relief as order is restored.]
Tiger surveys the scene, his gaze cold as moonlight. The valuables belonging to the village are set aside to be returned, while the rest is heaped into chests for his temple’s coffers. The bandits, broken and defeated, are led away—destined to become offerings for the mighty Tiger.
Tiger[/@ch_1] leads his followers back to the village. The captive bandits trail behind, the spoils of the night’s hunt glittering in the morning sun. Villagers emerge, faces alight with gratitude and awe.]
With a final glance at his domain, Tiger returns to his temple, victorious. The balance of power restored, his legend grows—protector, sorcerer, and sovereign of the jungle. The jungle, for now, belongs to its rightful master.
