Legends of Belariath

Lyanna

Lyanna appears to be a purebred Cat Person. She has the ears, the tail, the eyes, the claws... her fur on her ears and tail is light brown.

She has orange/red hair, nice and thick, which is currently mid-back length. She has a sweet face, the most striking feature of which may be her big, full, lips. Her face has a rounded shape more common to catgirls, but if one looks very closely, they can see the elf in her, particularly when they notice her high cheekbones.

She is a small person, shorter then average (5'3"), and is very lean and fit, from years of stealing, fighting, and evading capture, and has a slender frame from her elven heritage. Her muscles are toned and well-defined, without making her seem less feminine. With practice, she has become very limber, and is able to squeeze into “impossibly” tight spaces. Lyanna's measurements are: 34C-22-34.

Making her more attractive, is the fact that she is fairly amply endowed. Not enough to be an inconvenience, but enough to get looks from horny males.

But there is more... the catgirl, like all seductresses, is surrounded in a special aura ... anyone around her will find themselves drawn to her... many will want her... she is more beautiful, attractive, and seductive than she would be without it...

Lyanna can make herself look tough and mean, or sweet and seductive, depending on the situation.

Her genital area is waxed regularly, so that any hair there is no more substantial than peach fuzz. She strongly prefers this to shaving. A simple 'K' is branded onto her left hip, 2 1/2" high. She also has a tattoo: an uncoiled black whip, the handle just above her clit, the tip pointing up towards her navel, reaching about halfway there...

Lyanna sometimes has a green ribbon tied around her tail in a pretty bow. She has both nipples and her clitoral hood pierced (right nipple ring enchanted w/'milk', left w/'change self', clit ring with vibration)with crystal rings in them . Her raspy tongue has a crystal stud through it (enchanted with vibration), and she has good-sized earrings which are, unsurprisingly, also crystal.

A beautiful, fur-lined, mithril collar is locked around her neck. In the front is a ruby of exceptional quality, and on the sides and back are three smaller sapphires. All these gems are in square settings, the sapphires turned 45 degrees to the side to make a 'diamond' shape. It is unremovable, and enchanted with the 'warmth' and 'clean' spells. She also has simple gold anklets, one placed snugly around each ankle. She never takes them off. In fact, the one on the right is unremovable.

Clothing:

(note that it's not uncommon for Lyanna to go naked)-brief apron, with frills around the edges. It begins a few inches above her nipples, and ends around mid-thigh. Embroidered on the chest is the word 'CATSLUT'-numerous minidresses, halter tops, blouses, miniskirts and formerly knee-length skirts torn above the hem to make them 5 inches shorter.-knee-length spidersilk skirt and matching halter-leather bustier-numerous 'bikinis' (she does not call them that, but they are bra and panty sets meant to be outerwear)-purple cloak-2 leather bondage harnesses

Equipment and Personal Effects:

-a silver bell, sometimes worn on her collar -4' mithril chain leash -mithril dagger, the blade and crossguard enameled dark red, enchanted with +2 ATK for a total of 3 -a gold ring on her left index finger, enchanted with the spells 'Milk' and 'Change Self'. She primarily uses it to make her breasts bigger at times. -a gold anklet placed snugly around her right ankle. It is unremovable, even by Lyanna herself, and has an accomadation enchantment on it. There is a matching but unenchanted one on her other ankle.

-(NOT NORMALLY CARRIED): A backpack and a belt pouch containing 30' of rope, two wool blankets, a wineskin, a fishing net, 3 lbs. of jerky, a flint and a striking iron -a silver chain necklace, fashioned in a rope style. Given to her by Silver Shadow. -a silver hand mirror -a wooden hairbrush -fishing pole and tackle

Lyanna's sizeable sex toy collection, kept in a smallish wooden 'toybox', includes: clit tickler dildo (w/vibration), double dildo, mini-dildo (w/ vibration that can be verbally activated by ANYONE), minotaur-sized dildo, wolven-sized glass dildo, ball gag, harness-style ring gag, riding crop,buttplug, ben wa balls, anal beads, blindfold, spreader bar, leather flogger, three pairs of leather restraints, two pairs of manacles, a bottle of lube, and a squeeze egg.

Background:

You want to know about me? I'm flattered! You want my story, huh? Well, lucky for you, it’s a pretty interesting one. I’ve been many things, done many things, seen many things. I’ve met people of all sorts, been to many different places I have lots of stories, but you want the story of my life, yes? Good choice, it is one of my most interesting.

I was born to an elven father, and a catperson mother. My mother, Terra, lived in a fairly average village of catpeople, led by some older, conservative types. Age brings wisdom? Ha! How ridiculous! Wisdom comes from experience, and people like those elders, who do not take risks, do not get the experience. If you don’t believe me, then just keep listening.

I never learned the details, but from what I know, my father was one of a small band of human soldiers who stayed in our village for a short time, before venturing onward on a quest of some sort. He was a good man, strong in mind, body, and soul, and my mother was smitten with him. And so I was conceived. When my mother gave birth to me, a bastard child, it took little time for the village to realize just who sired me.

Now, here’s where the conservative folk lodge their heads firmly and deeply up their own asses, and come into play In case you didn’t know, which is a distinct possibility for any non-feline, conservative catpeople want to keep my race pure. They don’t want it “tainted” with the blood of other races.

This is kind of silly, because as is evident in my physical appearance, and behavior, the blood of catpeople is strong stronger than that of humans, elves, and probably just about everyone else. But what goes beyond being silly, to being brash and stupid, is the fact that half-breeds like myself are sterile, so our tainted blood is not able to pass to others.

This is not to say that the village was all conservative. There were many with more liberal views on the matter of half-breeds, and on other matters as well, I’m sure. But in mother’s village, they held less power, and were probably slightly fewer in number.

Soon there was talk about me, this bastard mongrel that had been born to Terra, and sired by an elf. Some did not care, some said it was not a problem; but the ones with the loudest voices, were the ones with the smallest brains, the ones who hated me for being alive. And they had the elders on their side. It soon became apparent to mother that I faced a life of being the target of bigotry and hatred. So, she did what any good mother would do she decided to take me somewhere else.

In order to allow this, she enlisted the help of Joven, a drak sen with scales of emerald. He was, of course, a bejeweled drak, and they have an incurable case of wanderlust; but the starting point for all of Joven’s adventures and journeys was in a cottage to the east of mother’s village. She went there to enlist his aid, for she did not know where to go or what to do. The emerald-scaled traveler was the most logical person to go to for help, and help he did.

Joven at first only gave my mother directions. But when he realized just how little she knew of traveling, he cancelled a planned journey to take mother and I to Leseida, a town five days to the south, where catpeople, elves, humans, dwarves, and even some draks and torians, lived in harmony. And so, on a clear day of November the 5th, my mother and Joven decided I was strong enough (for I was a spring kitten) to make it through the journey in good health. They departed in the early morning, while the moon was still in the sky, traveling along the fastest route. All seemed well, and it appeared that this would be an easy journey.

But appearances can be deceiving. Winter came early that year, and it made a big entrance. As we were halfway there, it started snowing. Joven led mother through the snow, undaunted, but then Gaea did something even more unpredictable. Around noon, a snowstorm began. By nightfall, it was a blizzard. Mother found a cave for shelter, and there we stayed to ride out the blizzard. Joven had brought enough food for eight days, if rationed properly. They had eaten three days’ worth. But nature has no mercy.

The blizzard dragged on, confining us to the cave. After three days, there was just enough food left to get us to Leseida, if the blizzard cleared, but it did not. On the fourth day of the storm, Joven was ready to give up his rations to mother. But she did not let him. If anyone could get to the town, it was him, she reasoned. She gave up her own rations.

That night, mother became very ill, stricken with pneumonia. I was not weaned yet, but she was too ill to nurse me. This was why she had given up her food she knew she was going to die, and that I would need something to provide nourishment. Her life slowly slipped away, and the next day, as the blizzard died back down into a more mild snowstorm, she succumbed to her illness. Joven gave her a simple burial.

Joven mashed up mother’s rations so I could eat them, and as the snowstorm faded later that day, he continued the journey; trudging onward through the snow to fulfill my mother’s dying wish; “take care of Lyanna for me, you are like her father, now”.

Sure enough, two days later, an emerald-scaled drak came into the town of Leseida, carrying in his arms a bundled-up kitten. He was going to fulfill my mother’s dying wish, come hell or high water. Enquiring with the locals about where to stay, who to see, and what to do, he managed to find room and board, and contemplated what to do.

Joven came up with a solution by the following morning; place me under the care of Greta, a kindly old human woman who raised orphans, sell his cottage back by the village, and buy a small house in Leseida to watch over me. He promptly carried out this plan, and got a job in town so he could afford everything he needed to ensure I was well cared for.

And so I grew, and thrived in these surroundings. Greta cared for us all with endless love. She had a catperson assistant, Kira, who helped keep me and the other orphaned catpeople stay in touch with our culture. And there was always Joven. Though his frequent wanderings often meant he was out of town, he always ended up back in Leseida, and always stayed as long as he could before his wanderlust became unbearable. He was my tutor, educating me in the ways of the world, teaching with all the wisdom of the dragons, of the past, the present, the future. These three people brought me up as well as any parents could. Indeed, all the children in the orphanage were treated the same way. It was a happy existence.

As the years went by, many things changed, though my life was always good. When I was ten, Kira had to leave town and go back to her village for some family matter, of the sort that would keep her from coming back. Two years later, I had to say a tearful goodbye to Joven, who was needed elsewhere by his dragon elders.

I had just gotten over Joven’s departure, when my life was turned upside-down. Greta died. The other orphans, who I’d come to know as brothers and sisters, did not know what to do, and neither did I. Chaos ensued it was a bad time. As we all went our separate ways, one of the older orphans, Dillon (not his real name, but that's not important), approached me and a few others. He had a solution to our problem. He wanted to form a band of thieves.

Now, Dillon was a dark elf, who’d only been at the orphanage for the better part of a year, so this was not terribly surprising, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. I agreed to join his little group, along with four others. “The Circle of Six” we called ourselves, and Dillon showed us the basics of how to steal, who to cheat, and how to con people. From there, we became quite the little band of thieves. We would move around the city, cleaning out one area, then moving to another, and another until we came back again to where we started. We lived surprisingly well, and with a great degree of privacy.

Eventually, however, we got TOO good. We were taking people’s money faster than they could make it, and things started to look grim for the Circle of Six. Dillon had a solution. Dillon always had a solution. Not necessarily a good one, but a solution nonetheless.

There was a man in Leseida, a drak sen with lava scales, who was powerful, rich and wicked. I will not name him, so don’t ask. This man had a habit, like some of his dragon elders, of collecting valuable things, and hoarding them. He was an influential businessman in the town, and many who could find no other job had to work for him, a merciless taskmaster who expected perfection. Many of the children from the orphanage ended up working for him.

Dillon’s plan was simple break into his home, and steal his assorted treasure. We could then sell it to people passing through town for whatever price we wanted. It was a risky plan, but the only one we had. We could do it! Thus spake Dillon, Lord of the Circle of Six!

It would have worked it really would have, were it not for a hole in our plan, which we did not see. Our mark had hired a new guard, unbeknownst to us. Why is this significant? It is important because the guard was a chirot. As we masterfully infiltrated the mansion, all seemed to be going well, but those big bat ears attached to the new guard’s head heard us. Before we knew it, armed and armored guards charged into the room, attempting to subdue us, no doubt to add to their employer’s labor force. Two of our number were knocked out by the guards, one almost right away, another after a short and noisy chase.

As the chase went on, as the rest of us tried to get out of there, the racket we were making awoke our mark, who entered the room wielding a large and fearsome-looking sword. His guards backed away from Dillon and I as he came at us, ready to strike. In his eyes, this was a personal insult. We bolted in different directions, and ended up with myself and two of the others on one side of the room, and Dillon on the other.

I will never forget the terror I felt as that lava-scaled drak looked me in the eye, as he strode forward, sword ready to shred through all three of us. We were cornered, there was no hope. One thing saved us. Dillon.

As our mark came forward to strike us, Dillon weaved through, around, and under the guards to pounce on the drak from behind, clinging to the man’s back, putting him in a headlock, and covering his eyes. The guards, not willing to risk harming their boss, all rushed to remove the clingy little elf from his back with their bare hands. I was the last one to escape.

As I went through a window, there was a bloodcurdling scream and the horrible sounds of flesh, bone and sinew being cleaved and rended by the sword. I was backing out of the window, climbing down a trellis, when I saw it. Only my head was visible from inside the room, and the window was open. Blood flew towards me almost at the same instant that Dillon was murdered.

As soon as that blood splattered against my face as soon as I heard the scream I shrieked, and in shock, let go of the trellis. As soon as I hit the ground I ran. I ran faster than I had ever imagined I could move. I ran back to one of our hideouts at the other side of the city all that distance, and I didn’t run out of breath.

As the three of us who remained met up at that location, to speak on what to do next, the lava-scale had sent his guards out to enlist the help of a pair of thugs who were both bounty hunters and slavers not officially, of course, they were too nasty for any guild to take them. And as we spoke, we heard hounds, getting closer and closer. As they drew near, we reached a decision; we would relocate the Circle of Six to the next town. We then scrambled outside, as fast as we could.

Too late to escape unnoticed. I recognized the two slavers immediately; they were always looking for new catgirls, so I kept myself aware of their activities, for my freedom’s sake. I screamed, but not in fear. I screamed a command to the other two. “RUN! RUN AWAY!”

Right after I said that, a crossbow went right into the shoulder of one of my fellow circle-members. He was a Halfling, so I figured I was strong enough to help him get away, but he yelled at me to leave while I had the chance. I did. Once again, I ran, I ran so fast that all I could hear was the wind, and all I could see was a tunnel through blurred surroundings. I ran so far, I couldn’t even tell where I was.

From that point onwards, I was on my own. I traveled from town to town, staying as long as I safely could. I made a living as a pickpocket and a whore the only two professions that seemed available to me. In some areas, my name has some notoriety attached to it. In others, where the rich oppress the poor, I have a good reputation for emptying the pockets of economic tyrants.

For five years, I continued this life, avoiding death or slavery, and trying to get raped as little as possible. When I came to Nanthalion, it was just another town to stop in my endless trek. Then I found a lover. Then he became my master. Then he vanished, and I could continue my journey into oblivion, if I desire. But I don’t. I’ve come to like this town; it’s a great place, despite the above-average numbers of rapes. I even have a steady job, here; I’ve never been able to say that, before. I could leave Nanthalion, like I left every other town. But why would I?

Anyway, that’s my story. Thanks for letting me tell it, hope it didn’t bore you too much!

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