Mibbets blood ran cold as the entire forest echoed with a familiar sounding screech. Only one creature sounds like that. “what did I tell you” she said to Rosalind “Always expect bloody owls, I shouldn’t have let my guard down”

“Calm down” Rosalind replied. “That noise was clearly a bear, and the guards are more than capable of handling that. But just to be safe you may want to get Choppy ready”. Sure enough the guards were already readying shields, and long spears to deal with the intrusion. When that thing burst through the underbrush charging the guards.

Mibbet took one look at the emerging owl-bear with a screech of horror. “Owls and bears together? What kind of sick, sick world lets that happen? How, WHY?” She shrieked unslinging Choppy from her back and leaping clear (that was to give the guards room or something? Honest.) She took another step back and examined the horrifying monstrosity before her. It was the size of a...... well, bear. With a wide fanged beak “couldn’t it just have had fangs or a beak? Having both is totally greedy, and how the hell does that even happen.” She asked herself.

“This is why you never get two wizards drunk in the same room, they egg each other on, and suddenly they whip out the monstrosities.” Rosalind sighed, while Mibbet looked to the gilded carriage. But then seeing the horses anxiously prancing about and having no desire to be in a runaway carriage she reconsidered, just as a second screeching roar from behind spooked them into bolting.

“well there goes that plan” Mibbet muttered “you said the guards could handle these creatures? What are their odds with two?”

“Better than yours if you don’t concentrate.“ Rosalind shot back as the second Owl-bear broke cover and sunk its claws into Mibbets leg.

Now not many people know this, but so long as all flight options are gone a frog is quite capable of turning their instincts to fight (just usually said frog either has a better chance jumping away or is already lunch before they even know it.) Plus frogs aren’t usually pumped full of adrenaline, dealing with a bloodthirsty princess occupying their brain, or armed with an axe. So Mibbet turned and using Choppy gave the amazed avian ursine abomination what can only be described as a “heckin bad snoot boop.”

At that exact moment Sir Humphrey , upon spotting the princesses predicament pounced and landed on the owl-bear in full plate armour. Now as previously mentioned Sir Humphrey was built along traditional lines, and when he landed on something it tended to stay landed on.

The owl-bear not expecting to be body-slammed by about 250lbs (before the armour) of Sir Humphrey gave a surprised Squroark (you try imitating the sound an owl-bear makes when surprised sometime, let’s see how you do.) Released its hold on its prey and started to try desperately to shift the unexpected armoured imposition.

Mibbet meanwhile was quite done running (of course her inability to outrun 2 owls OR bears may have been in a contributing factor.) Rosalind was in her head screaming for blood, and vengeance, and they had the full rage of generation on generation of being turned into owl chow, and now she was in the mood for a little payback.

“This is for great uncle grog you hopless bastard.” She screamed as she bounded forward , raising choppy high then slamming down from a leap with her whole body weight behind it (not that that was a lot) , right on the owl-bears taloned paw. Leaping clear once more as a massive clawed limb swiped the air where she had just been.

“Oh globbits” she muttered, but it was too late to turn back now, and Sir Humphrey was doing an admirable job of holding on, hacking away with his sword at the owl-bears neck. She ran up once more, driving her axe down on her targets skull as the creature finally dislodged Sir Humphrey so he hammered into a tree (subsequently passing through it and the one behind before coming to a stop.

Unfortunately for Mibbet this happened just as Choppy embedded itself in the thickest skull outside of the sphere of politics. Equally unfortunately she did not have the good sense to let go. “You are not getting Choppy, he’s mine” she snarled holding on for dear life (which in the circumstances was a very fitting description.)

The outraged Owl-bear bucked and reared, in a valiant attempt to dislodge the rather more spicy than expected meal, vowing to itself as soon as it got ahold of this bloody creature it was PELLETS. But try as it might it couldn’t seem to dislodge her, and its paws couldn’t reach the flailing creature that seemed to have lodged itself in its head. Eventually sheer panic caused it to ram head first into a tree, that was rather better rooted than expected. Half knocking itself out in the process, giving a few of the guards with long spears the opportunity needed to run in and finish it off with a spear thrust, before helping the princess to dislodge her weapon and dismount.

Meanwhile seeing the other Owl-bear fall made the other even angrier as it charged the shield wall again, and again. But mercifully it was clearly running out of steam, as the spearman stepped up once more. Mibbet stayed well out of it this time, as the second attacker was finished off she slipped away to check on her knight in rusty armour.

A quick examination showed Sir Humphrey was bruised, battered, dented, but unharmed, and rather touched the Princess had assisted him in battle. “I’ve decided” he stated. “Your highness it seems battle suits you, I will personally speak to your father and get you proper training.”

Mibbet of course was less than enthusiastic about the idea, but any attempts to dissuade him resulted in him insisting she was “too humble.” As Mibbet desperately tried to seek an excuse, any excuse to prevent herself from meeting a terrible fate the bushes rustled once more, as a ferocious predator lurched from cover, and like the ferocious beast it was grabbed Mibbets ankle, with a teeny tiny ............. Squroark.