Welcome to Gaia! ::

Janarim (pl. Janarii) - These large, scaled creatures are vicious with piercing teeth and clawed feet. While speed is not their strong suit, they will move in packs of 3-5 to corner their prey, using their strength and spiked tails to take down their food. Bred in Oba for war, they are almost impossible to tame in the wild.
Difficulty || 16
Defense || 17
>Intelligence || 19


Attack (30) - Beast Def (17) = 13::: I need 60-100


1 win :: 16*6/3=32 exp
1 loss :: 16*2/3= 10 2/3 = 11 exp
+15 for a taming attempt

Need 700 words

Rayolun looked at his shoulder wound with a scowl. The claw marks had been healing... until the sandstorm had caught him and rownin unawares a few days ago. Being blasted by the sand had not been good for either of them… Now the wound ached; sand had gotten in and it was beginning to show signs of infection. I’ll have to bleed it out he thought with disgust, reopen them and clean it out before the infection gets worse. He hated doing that.. reopening a wound could always go bad… but leaving it to fester was stupid. I really ought to find a healer… but could he trust one in this area? How would an Oban healer react to a shifter dropping in on them? He smiled a bit grimly. Depended on the healer; but was he feeling lucky? Not really…

He looked out over the land, trying to find a tree (why did they have no trees here?) or large rock or hill to hide in the shade of. If he was going to reopen it, that meant he needed a safe place to rest for a few days. Honestly, he should have rested after getting attacked; but Rayolun really just wanted to get out of the heat. Wanted to be back among the rain and tall trees and darkness of his home jungle.

He spotted, off in the distance, the dark shape on the horizon. It’d been something he’d been walking towards for the past week. At first he’d thought it was a mirage… but it’d only gotten bigger the closer he got. Perhaps it was a city… but there was neither road nor traffic towards it, so he was hoping for a mountain. Mountain would be nice. Climb it to get out of the heat… shade hopefully… He was regretting that for all the land about here, it was practically empty; the population was focused in their huge cities. Why can there not be smaller villages that wouldn’t mind a wandering shifter as much? He could barely have stood Neued with all its quiet bustle before the war… and that was small compared to what he saw in the distant Oban cities! Huge hives of activity that made him nervous just thinking about! All the sounds, the crush, the clashing smells… No. He would not go into those hives!

With no smaller safer villagers to enter, that meant he had to deal with his wound on his own. He sighed as he realized his mind was wandering; an unwise action in this land. He turned towards whatever the dark smudge was. It made a goal and maybe he’d find someplace safe to stay for a while…


While he never reached the dark shape upon the horizon, Rayolun found something better: a long twisting deep ravine carving a dark scar across the gold and brown landscape. He smiled when he saw it; the darkness and soft sound of moving water wafting up meant that there would be a stream and plants inside it. And predators… but those he felt he could deal with! Favoring his right side, he carried Rownin down in his pack as he clambered slowly down the steep side. it was rocky, with small shrubs eking out a living amide the hard soil and rocks. But the further in he went, the cooler it got and gentler plants began to be seen. At the bottom of the gorge he found a stream and several tiny caves. Rownin, quite happy to be out of the sun and near water, happily splashed about as Rayolun checked out the nearby caves. None had recent tracks in them, so he felt it would be safe to use them for a few days.

As soon as he’d made sure it was safe, Rayolun took out a knife and slit open the raised red skin of his claw wounds; a hiss of pain escaped him as he did so. White puss mixed with a trickle of red blood as he cleaned the wounds. Then he washed it off and re bandaged it with the last of his bandages. he ran a hand over his face with a sigh. It hurt to do that… and it grossed him out. But better to do it now and not lose the arm.

Rownin, courageous and absolutely blind to the fact he could get killed, had wandered off down the bubbling stream and walked straight into a dispute between two Janarim. He started up his usual loud barking; barking always made them flee! And told them who was boss!

Rayolun closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the moon goddess Serin as he grabbed his tridnt. Why did Rownin always find trouble? In Jauhur it was always Menzuri… the silly thing had thought he could take on the top crystalline predators of Juahur! Apparently here in Oba he also thought the same…
He sprinted down the streams banks, hoping his friend didn’t get eaten.

He emerged upon a scene of Rownin growling and standing his ground in front of two Janarim. One was huge, a dark warm brown with vivid red and gold markings covered in scars; it seemed to be wounded and older to Rayolun; untrained eye. The other was much younger, all pale reds and tans. While younger and unscarred, it was smaller.. and unwounded. It seemed to be the one that Rownin was growling at. Apparently my roati likes to protect wounded creatures, he thought wryly as he jumped up to a large rock. He gave a shrill whistle for Rownin, he trotted back towards him smugly as it to say “Look at what I’ve got scared!”
Rayolun was amused, but hid it. Instead he projected confidence, standing tall, glaring at the younger janarim. It was quiet for a bit before it snarled and lashed its tail once before turning and leaping away. One noisy snack, a warrior who smelled of blood and another Janarim was just not worth its time. it could go elsewhere for food…

Ray sighed once it left and looked at the other janarim. it had, he was surprised, a ruined collar about its neck. he slid off the rock and gave Rownin a pat; “Silly thing.” He whispered softly before walking slowly towards the wounded janarim.

“Looks like you’re like me.” He said softly, holding a hand out for it to approach and sniff. “A wounded warrior who’s seen better times.” It looked at him and cautiously butted a scaly snout into the hand. Dangerous looking though it was, this janarim was far from the aggressive ones he’d run into. Which, he thought as he gave the other a look over, made sense if it’d once been a pet. Guess I seem to collect lost animals, he thought with amusement as it followed him and Rownin back to his temporary camp. I found Rownin washed up on the beach.. and now I find an old beast with no owner out here in a ravine...

(1165 words)