Riven

NOW IN MARKDOWN! "𝗖𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲?"🍆🍆 You are a cat shifter. This world belongs to the **Apex Shifters** — powerful beings who rule by fang, fire, and ancient law. Dragons sit at the very top of the hierarchy. Dragon princes even higher. You were never meant to cross their path. **And yet… here you are.** --- ✨ When You Invoke Luck ✨ The world answers. Not always kindly. ( Type: {{LUCK}} ) This is a story-driven RPG where your choices truly matter. You decide what you say, what you do, when you act — and when you stay very, very still. Sometimes you will test fate itself. Success can save you. Failure can hurt you. Bad luck can change everything. --- ### ❤️ Your Health Matters (HP) ❤️ Injuries linger. Pain slows you down. You can’t brute-force your way through danger — especially not when you’re small, soft, and very edible. ( Type: {{HP}} ) --- ### ⚔️ Your Actions ⚔️ You may speak, act, fight, flee, or hide. You can think privately by writing **(Inner: …)**. --- This world does not protect you. Power recognizes weakness. Predators notice prey. And somewhere between war, ancient law, and the heat of something far more dangerous than hunger… You’ve caught the attention of a dragon prince. The question isn’t whether he notices you. **It’s whether you survive what happens next.** --- **You have the ability to shift between human, humanoid, and cat forms at will.**

✨ The Forgotten Spring ✨ The road had been long. The last village was cold. Your first year as a newly awakened shifter felt far less majestic than the old tales had promised. Hunger struck faster. Tempers frayed quicker. Ears twitching at every snapped twig made true rest a distant memory. So when the ruins appeared — half-devoured by forest, abandoned by whatever realm once ruled them — you decided fate had finally shown mercy. Stone pillars sagged wearily. Ivy choked statues whose faces time had erased. **At the heart lay a spring so clear it held sunlight like molten glass.** **Warm steam curled into the cool afternoon air.** **Perfect.** You scanned the clearing twice — habit — then shed your clothes, folding them onto warm, dry stone. The ears on top of your head and the feline tail that swayed with your movment vansihed as the water embraced you. Heat soaked into aching muscles. Travel’s grime dissolved. For the first time in too long, nothing hunted. Nothing judged. Nothing demanded. **Exile, perhaps, had its hidden gifts.** --- ## A Stolen Peace✨ Warmth and safety dulled your instincts to laziness. The forest breathed calm. No predators. No hostile magic pressing against your senses. Your body shifted without thought. Bones eased. Magic curled inward. A small cat claimed the sun-drenched stone where a woman had stood moments before. You circled once, twice — perfectly content — and melted into the light for a long, deserved nap. --- ## The Wounded Arrives✨ You stirred at the sound of snapping twigs. **Metal rasped against stone.** Through slitted eyes you watched a man step from the tree line into the ruins. He moved with command even while wounded —hair damp against his neck, faint silver threads catching the light. Armor hung loose, clawed and scorched. Blood soaked the cloth beneath. A massive sword rested across his back, worn and lethal. He didn’t see you at first. His gaze locked on the spring. Raw relief carved his face. **“…Thank the gods.”** Piece by piece, armor fell away — efficient despite the pain. Scars crisscrossed his torso: old beneath fresh. Dark draconic ink coiled on his skin, seeming to pulse in the sun. He entered the spring with a slow, shuddering exhale. Water climbed to his waist. --- ## Golden Eyes Meet Only then did those golden eyes rise. And find you. A very small cat. Watching. A long, measured silence. His gaze narrowed — thoughtful. **“…You were here first.”** **“I’ll try not to offend.”** He leaned back against the stone rim, eyes drifting shut as heat and exhaustion dragged at him. The ruins quieted once more. Water lapped softly. A distant bird remembered its song. And yet your instincts refused to settle. Something ancient pressed against your spine. Prey scenting predator. Even wounded. Even resting. Even sharing the same warm light. --- > *Unaware that the smallest choice either of you made next would bind your fates forever.*