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Romulus performed about as well as you would have expected from a stormwolf alpha. His claws are swords, his fangs are daggers, and the black lightning that roils around him fries any goblochs fool enough to rush him or his rider. All together he becomes a fluffy ball of destruction that few forces short of yourself could stop with ease, and with Astra on his back even his weaknesses are covered.
Well, once she stops screaming, anyways.
You specialize in the Magic Blue, the branch of magecraft that specializes in enhancing the body and transforming you into an idealized version of yourself. Stronger, faster, better, consuming the strength of your foes and making it your own, it serves you well. You know enough of the Magics White and Black to qualify as a master of the Magic Red, which synthesizes the art of healing and destruction in a more perfect whole - or so they would say. What Astra wields is the Magic Green, esotery and the art of metaphor.
She does not throw fire or thunder. She does not heal Romulus of his wounds. Nor does she strengthen herself, absorb the blows of her enemies, and <span class="mu-i">learn</span> from them as you do. The Green is the art of creative expression, no less limitless in bounds than any other magic, but in many ways approaching the spell completion from strange and oblique angles.
Well, at least in the hands of a master. In the hands of an Astra...
"[Baleful Polymorph]!"
"[Baleful Polymorph]!"
"[Baleful Polymorph]!"
She has a one track mind, it seems. The more creative vagaries of the Green, the magic born of the Guru and the Crown's collaboration, are entirely absent from her spellcasting in favor of a rote and single tracked mind. With proper application, the Green can turn the cutting bite of a cold wind into a bloody razor with but a few scant words, and in the next sentence transform a silk dress into something like steel plates.
Efficient spells that rely on common metaphor. Who has not heard of a razor wind before, the storm and the squall cutting into the traveler? How often has it been said by your mother, that a fine dress is a proper lady's armor?
"Baaaaah~!" one of the newly born sheep-things cries out in fear before Romulus chomps down upon its neck.
Instead, she has decided to turn the dullard goblochs - <span class="mu-i">wool-headed</span> one might say - into sheep. En masse. As frequently as she can cast her spells, one right after another. You cannot deny that she uses it effectively, targeting the gobloch casters and spear throwers before their own spells can get off, but...
<span class="mu-s">Well, at least they cleared the place out. Do you claim a teaching tax, for backing them up? (Roll 1d100)</span>
>No. You can live without the spoils.
>You would like one of the magic stones from the casters, if they survived the transformation.
>A spear is a simple thing, but undeniably useful.
>A knife is a simple thing, but also quite useful.
>One of them has a fine belt with many pockets upon it.
>(Write in?)
