Coeurl Lurker is a Splinterlands character.
Splinterlands is an NFT Trading Card Game based in the world of Praetoria.
Lore:
When the Riftwatchers spotted the coeurl lurker on Lemell, they figured it could be another weapon in their arsenal against the Chaos Legion. However, no matter what traps they laid for it, the beast was impossible to snare. When they finally cornered it, the coeurl attacked and decimated an entire squad of hunters. The **** survivor described it as a sleek, cat-like creature with terrible fangs and claws. It had four tentacles tipped with thorns, two each on its shoulders and hindquarters, and the tail of a scorpion. It used its tentacles and tail to impale its prey, then tossed them aside, slammed them against a tree or the ground, or yanked them in close for the killing blow.
The Riftwatchers became even more desperate to capture the coeurl and turn it to their own ends. They called upon the greatest hunter on Lemell, the wild elf, Ilyana Daelen. After nine long weeks, she trapped two of them, a male and a female. The Riftwatchers trained them. In time, the pair would respond to basic commands from their third handler.
They were right; the coeurl proved fearsome weapons that wreaked havoc on the enemy, and they quickly became a legionnaire's worst nightmare. However, they remained wild beasts, and without the runic implants to serve as a safeguard, they were just as apt to turn on the Riftwatchers as attack the Chaos Legions.
Just ask what's left of their first two handlers.
The squad of Chaos Legion assassins moved silently through the trees. Not a leaf rustled. Not a branch snapped underfoot. Ahead, beyond the edge of the forest, the glow of lights in the windows of a manor house shone in the valley. They adjusted the straps that secured their dart guns to their wrists, confirmed every knife was in its place, and made certain that anything that might betray them with a clank or a rattle was tied down or wrapped in cloth. They were ready. When the night gave way to dawn, no one would be left alive in the House of Elias Tweak, a stupid and weak man who served as the primary source of funding for the rebellion in these parts.
But before they could slip from the cover of the trees and make their way toward the house, a shadow flickered, and one of the assassins toppled backward and landed with a thud. His tunic blossomed with blood. He was dead.
The others drew their daggers and whirled about, scanning the darkness. They saw nothing.
A whisper of sound and a flicker of shadow. Another assassin fell. Then another. And another. Soon, they were all dead, save for one.
The last of the Chaos Legion's assassins whirled about. He held his knives at the ready, eyes wide and straining into the blackness. “Where are you?” His voice quavered. “What.. what are you?”
The coeurl lurker padded onto a stout tree branch above him and growled. The assassin stared up at the monstrous cat. Blood dripped from its maw, and its tentacles undulated, slithering in the air.
“Please, no—”
The beast dropped from above. Its vicious jaws closed on his neck and ripped the rest of the words from his throat.