Olan - Yeah, I figured I'd go ahead and, at least get a start putting them in if, for no other reason, than to familiarize myself with the interface and whatnot. I can probably get the above list entered by this afternoon if work doesn't claim my attentions too much.

breebles -  Ch'dau's name is in the generator, actually, just didn't add him to the list, here, because Olan had already added him when he created the Kazari category in the generator's database. I'll tack him on above just for you.

...at least not on a conscious level, anyway.

In discussing things with Olan, early on, I had asked him why someone in Sendria might be keeping a captured kazari alive and he threw a few options at me:

1. Being held for ransom. Surely the Silver Wyverns would pay a decent sum for the return of such a warrior... Or exchange prisoners...


2. For study/experimentation. Kazari aren't exactly prolific creatures on Antaron. Perhaps a "mad scientist" type or creepy collector was holding him as part of some experiment or something.


3. Sendria is full of dark sorcerers, death worshipers, and the like... Maybe he's to be offered as some sort of exotic sacrifice.

I kind of melded at least two of those ideas and here we are... Maybe Olan is subliminally influencing things!

Waaaaay back when, sometime around page 3 or 4 of Hidden Corruption, I started a very rough outline of how this adventure might start... Figuring out how Ch'dau ended up being captured, who his gaelor might be, and why in the names of all the gods would they keep such a monster alive. After a few trips across the drawing board, I came up with the basics of Undolithe, her power, and here adherence to D'hurgan, etc.

Now, I chose that God, in particular, because Adedra was planned as a necromancer, "The Burning" is celebrated as a holy day in his honor and all that crazy kitty litter. I did, so, too, without knowing that D'hurgan's priests would be making an appearance in Hidden Corruption... Really, I didn't even consider the connection too much until just now and it's got me wondering if D'hurganites are going to be an overarching theme for our merry band? Are we going to manage to somehow totally piss of the god of death to such a degree that he stalks us?

Oh my Rrowl!What have we done?

Male

• Ch'dau


• Ch'kath


• Ch'krth


• Ch'mbo


• Ch'uth


• Faur'ki


• Fqhur'qis


• Gr'gteth


• Gr'k'tor


• Grn'kawa


• Jh'gou


• J'khal


• J'khar


• Jr'qath


• Kh'kar


• Khr'dagtu


• Ko'khem


• Kr'nkei


• Kr'riis


• M'ccen


• M'cdu


• M'gau


• N'thu'th


• Pr'kos


• Pr'than


• Qi'das


• R'cus


• Rrawer


• Rr'ktu


• Rrow'aqi


• Ti'khun


• T'kei


• Zh'cen

Female

• A'rr'u


• Jhen'yu


• J'lsu


• Kalani


• Kerana


• Kh'omu


• Kiphre


• Ll'she


• M'yama


• Mofi


• N'shas


• Rr'otya


• Rr'phura


• Rr't'myuh


• S'nhu


• S'rre


• T'mey


• Z'rre

P.S. I've started adding some of these to the generator. Not too far in, yet, cuz, maaaan, I need food. Back at it in a bit.

Name change accomplished!

Love me some Aranwen flashbacks!

First of all, that was some quality kazari snark, right there!

Second of all, I thought you'd like that!  

Third of all, name change happening, now.... Oooh! And there's a Reralae post to marvel at, as well! *happy dance*

I mean, I don't know that anyone besides me has actually played a kazari, here, or, for that matter, if there are many who actually get into playing or writing about cat-folk. That said, as I started playing Ch'dau and, thereby, started tinkering around with "building Capasha" I did come up with a slew of names that I peppered through those documents. Got plenty of seeds to start with, at any rate.

As to seed names for other races, I can probably help with that, too! I'll start putting a list or sixty-four together.

Do one for the kazari, too! I've got to stop making them up solely in my own mind sooner or later.

...as I was tacking up that last post that I conceived the name of this thread before Reralae had returned and joined us in Hidden Corruption. Seeing as the Butterfly has graced us with her participation and contributed soooo much to the story, already, I feel a need to change the title a bit... How does "The Adventures of Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun" grab you?

Not an enspelled door!

We should kick it open and set it on fire, right meow!!!

I'll get a post going soon... Just got finished with a meeting and tagging up the "prequel" so my eyeballs need a short break.

This is what it had come to, then. Weeks of confinement, the taunting and torture at the hands of the witch and her guards, the repeated promise of a death in which no true warrior would find honor and, now, the faint glimmer of hope he’d had was extinguished by the very shadow in which he had glimpsed it. When the guards had appeared, chasing the shadow into the dark, the hopeful spark she had abandoned with him was of no use other than to kindle the embers of fury in the Kazari’s heart. If he was to die in this place, then so be it, but it would be a death he chose, not one that some monkey-faced witch had contrived. His anger built, every thought fueling it, and the more it grew the less he felt his pain. When the guards had reached his cage, he knew it would be the last time he would be prodded by them and, the faintest touch of the pole was all it had taken to stoke the fires of Ch’dau’s anger into explosive, all consuming fury. That conflagration of rage had burnt away thoughts of the shadow-girl as quickly as it had consumed the first two guards. By the time the others had begun to converge on his cage, the only thoughts to survive the inferno were those that involved denying the witch her victory by way of his dying in battle.

The enemy pressed from all sides, now, blades probing and poking from every angle, seeking to bring him down but, as yet, not to bring him death. The witch had made it clear that, in order for him to serve his part in her machinations, the cat-beast would need to be alive for The Burning. It was that stipulation that weakened the guards’ position and made them more susceptible to the caged beast’s attacks. Each limb the cat-man took, though, each gout of blood he spilled from their numbers, served to lessen their adherence to their mistress’ orders. As their dedication diminished, their attacks became more focused, less concerned with whether or not the kazari might survive them. The beast had been so intent on an attack from one side, in fact, that it had opened him up to a stronger attack from another. The blade of a spear found its way into the cat-man’s thigh, evoking a roar born more of pain than anger. The distraction of it was brief enough but, it seemed, it was also the beginning of the end for him. Though Ch’dau continued to fight, more and more of the guards’ blows found their mark and still more guards spilled into the room to join the fray…

Good, he managed to think as his fury began to be washed over by pain, I will die a warrior, at least, not a sacrifice to some monkey-faced god.

…He chanced a look beyond the guards in his immediate reach, then, in an attempt to gauge how many more he might expect to take to the Eternal Hunt with him. As the new arrivals charged forward, one of them fell, seemingly having tripped over his own feet. It was then that the girl he’d cursed as a coward just moments ago reappeared and threw herself into the fracas with wild abandon. Two guards fell to her blades before Ch’dau shook off his surprise and, encouraged by her unexpected assistance, redoubled his own efforts. He reached through the bars, bringing his claws to bear on a guard whose swelling confidence had brought into the kazari’s reach. The human’s sword arm had already been ruined and his guts were soon to follow when the bars of the cage clanged and shook from a heavy impact on the other side.

“Cat-man,” the shadow-girl’s voice called out, drawing his gaze to where she had a guard pinned between herself and the cage’s bars, “my offering to… Rawr?”

Beside her, another guard made to attack but, without taking her eyes from the ferocious kazari, she sank a blade into the man’s temple. “See? Kith good,” the girl said, shoving the pinned guard closer to the bars, “Now make yourself useful.”

“For Rrowl, then,” Ch’dau snarled in response, offering a horrifying approximation of a human smile as he lashed out with his claws and tore deep furrows into the flesh of man’s face and neck.

The battle raged on and, with the shadow-girl… had she called herself Kith?... lending her assistance from outside the cage, turned, once more in the kazari’s favor. Kith fought fiercely if not precisely honorably as the blood continued to spill and, even when she took blows of her own, she refused to retreat into her shadows; for now, that was enough for Ch’dau to dismiss her deceitful tactics in deference to her bravery.

 Soon enough, the fight had come to an end; the bodies of the fallen littered the dungeon floor and everything in the cage’s proximity was painted in blood and gore. On one side of the cage’s bars a huffing shadow-girl searched in vain for something on which to clean her blades, on the other, a panting kazari slumped against the blood-slicked iron, his wrath diminishing and awareness of his new injuries increasing. For a moment, as each sought to catch their breath, the pair simply eyed one another; neither of them able to find words, just now, let alone speak them. When their breaths had slowed enough, though, and silence reclaimed the abattoir, once more the kazari managed to rumble out three on a rasping breath. “You fought well.”

Kith smirked at this and took a couple of steps closer to the beast’s cage. “Next time, lead with ‘I rip heads off human bodies’,” she said as she produced a ring of keys from a pocket and tossed them through the bars. “I don’t know if you’ll find what you’re looking for on there, but I have my tools if need be.”

“I thought I had led with that,” Ch’dau snorted, offering an appreciative nod as he took up the keys and began testing them, one by one, on the shackles that bound his ankles. By the time he had gotten to the third or fourth key, he heard the girl puff out an impatient breath and he glanced up from his task to see her approaching.

Reaching the cage door, she sheathed her blades and briefly studied the lock before producing two, thin pieces of metal from somewhere within her leathers. “First,” she said with a shake of her head as she slid the picks into the lock, “you insult my blades…”

“I did not insult your blades,” the kazari interjected, returning his attentions to the iron cuff at his ankle, “Your blades are fine. I insulted you.”

“…then, I have to save your fuzzy ass,” the girl continued, working away at the lock on the door even as the one at his foot gave way to the proper key, “now I’m dragging you out of your own kennel.” She didn’t bother to look up from her work but, instead, gave another exasperated shake of her head just as the latch on the cage door clicked. “You better be careful,” she warned, getting to her feet and returning the picks to her pocket, “You may have to pay me ba--…”

Kith’s breath is taken from her as she is knocked to the ground. Her ears ringing from the blow that had leveled her, she forced her eyes open to find the captain of the guard standing over her.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” the powerful man grinned menacingly down at her as he tossed her daggers out of Kith’s reach, “What have you done?” He settles his weight on her, pinning her to the bloody floor. “She will be very displeased,” the captain continued darkly, “What have you done?”

She squirmed beneath him, punching and clawing ineffectually at his armor, and fighting against his weight as he captured her hands and pinned them under his knees.

With the she-thief immobilized, now, the captain’s eyes lifted to the cage and, the ominous grin never wavering, shook his head; “And you’ve let her pet out, as well.”

Kith craned her neck to look at the cage for herself and saw that the worthless cat was indeed gone. Disbelief washed over her, followed closely by despair as her eyes turned back to the burly man straddling her.

He had leaned forward, his hands wrapping around her throat, and the sadistic grin firmly fixed on his lips as he began to choke the air out of her. “You are not going to like what she does to you,” he promised as the light in her eyes began to dim.

As her vision blurred and her thrashing weakened, Kith thought she heard or, perhaps, felt, a low rumbling on the air. Before the haze at the edges of her sight managed to creep to its center, she caught glimpse of a blurry shape, larger than even the man who crushed the air from her lungs, appear from the dark behind the captain. A weak but defiant smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, then. “Not… gon..na like… what… he… does… to you,” she managed to squeak out on the last bit of her breath.

The captain’s eyes went wide, the menace draining from them as he realized his mistake. His fingers let go of the girl’s throat and, even as he reached for his blade, he turned to face the monster at his back. And turning was the last thing the captain of Mistress Undolithe’s guard ever did… he saw the monster smile, felt the blades stab jarringly through his ribcage and into his lungs, experienced the agony of it as those blades lifted him toward the fang-filled maw, but he didn’t manage to scream before those teeth rent his throat.

When the guard captain’s death throes twitched to a stop, Ch’dau ripped the blades from the man’s chest and spit him onto the ground, away from where Kith lay. He crouched next to the man and wiped the blades free of blood on the fabric of the captain’s pants. Only then did Ch’dau return to the shadow-girl’s side. “You had better be careful,” he rumbled softly, sliding her daggers back into their sheaths as she blinked up at him, still trying to reclaim her air, “You may end up having to pay me back.”

The Kazari’s ears twitched and he made a chuffing sound that, to her, sounded as if it might be laughter. One of his massive paws slid under her head, then, and he helped her into a seated position. “We should go,” he purred, his blue-green gaze sweeping the dungeon, “the witch still has many more men. It will not be long before they find their way here, and you have had enough battle for now, little kitten…”

Yuh-huh! No disrespect to any of those who came before, but the life and depth that have been brought to Aranwen and Cedric by their "new" players has been amazing! 

As to the game/plot/story itself - regardless of where it may have found it's origins, Olan, you have truly made it your own and I'm super happy to have been able to participate in all of it's ooginess! In fact, I'll go so far as to say that this game was a major factor in the resurgence of my own creativity. Hell, I've been doing Kazari world-building and, inspired by the characters, here, have spun things off into our little "prequel" that's just flying along! So, kudos, O' Webmaster and, more importantly, THANK YOU!

Awesome post, breebles!

It makes me exceedingly happy that we're all enjoying this, so much! For something that just started out as an "I wonder what happened when..." idea seed, it's certainly taken right off!

Also, I've updated the notable NPCs post on the first page with descriptions of Ascinar Driol and Morgana provided by Reralae.

Perhaps both, hmm? 

Truly creepifying, Rer!

...Cedric is a young-un and he's been through some pretty harrowing business of late. Maybe he just misremembered.

“You there… Girl…”

At the sound of his voice, the shadowy figure spun about in what might have been surprise and a pair of blades appeared in her hands as her gaze swept the murk of the cells. She seemed uncertain as to where the voice might have originated and, perhaps, stunned that there had been a voice at all. Ch’dau waited until the girl’s eyes were fully on him and, when their gazes met, he nodded confirmation of her suspicions and continued; “Free me from this cage and I will help you find your way out of this foul place.”

Bewilderment plays on the shadow-girl’s features for a moment and, once again, her eyes flit about the room as if seeking out evidence of some sort of trickery. Finding none, she seemed to accept that it had, in fact, been the cat-beast who had spoken. She rose from her crouch, then, and made a wary approach, whispering to a stop just out of his reach; her appraising gaze taking in the beast behind the bars. After a moment, she determined that she was no immediate danger from the wretched thing and returned her daggers to their sheaths, though her hands remain ready upon their hilts.

“Free you,” she whispered, her critical gaze looking him up and down, again, “You can barely speak. Even if I wanted to flee, what could you possibly do for me?”

It was Ch’dau’s turn to look puzzled. Why would she not want to leave this vile place? Was she even aware of the horrors that transpired here? Had she any clue as to what awaited in these damnable Sendrian shadows, the very idea of it should be enough to set her running. His tail lashed in irritation and he heaved a weary sigh as he sized her up. “Forgive,” he rumbled following his perusal of her willowy form, “but, those blades aside, you do not appear much the warrior. If it is your intention to delve deeper into this hell, you will need one at your side. The witch has many soldiers of her own and other unnatural things of her creation stalk the shadows in which you seek to hide. Let me loose, give me a blade, and I will keep them all from you. I will kill anything that comes near.”

“Perhaps if I were concerned about a cat-fight I would be convinced,” the shadow-girl scoffed, “but you look like something one might find in a ditch.”

“Were this a ditch,” the kazari replied, an offended growl scarcely restrained in his chest, “I would not need your help. This is not a ditch, tiny shadow, and if you are set on exploring it deeper, you will need mine.”

A half-apologetic smirk tugged at the corners of the girl’s mouth, then, and she began to take a step away. “Sorry kitty cat,” she murmured, “I think I am going to have to pa…”

“Over here,” an all too familiar voice boomed from the dark beyond the thief, “It’s talking to it! Light the torches!”

“They bring more than torches,” Ch’dau snarled at her back as the shadow-girl scrambled for cover from the flickering orange torchlight, “and you will be sorry when you find yourself sharing my fate.”

The girl had disappeared from his sight as those last words chased her into the shadows and the kazari’s growl of irritation welled into one of anger as he watched two of the witch’s guards try to ferret her out. The tone of the snarl grew more ominous, still, as another pair of guards took up their restraining poles and swaggered toward the beast’s cage.

“Seems the Silver Cat of Coria is making friends, now,” one of them mocked, loosening the noose at one end of the pole so that it would slip easily over the kazari’s head.

“Can’t have that,” the other jeered, also readying his pole, “Mistress Undolithe wants ya all ta herself, there, beasty!” He banged the butt end of the pole against the bars of the cage, then, and evoked a gnashing of teeth from the cat-man. “Tell ya what, though,” the guard chuckled condescendingly, “when Sibert an’ Tommus flush yer little visitor out, mebbe we’ll let ya eat it.”

“Yeah,” his partner laughed, sliding the business end of his capture pole through the bars, “Oughta be a fittin’ last meal fer a condemned cat ma… Aaaah shite!!!”

The noose had scarcely brushed the tip of Ch’dau’s ear before the kazari’s massive paw closed around the iron-banded pole. The guard’s taunting was drowned out by a bestial roar and replaced with terrified screams as, with a violent jerk, he was hauled toward cage. The pole clattered to the floor as the guard had abandoned it in favor of drawing his sword, now, but it was too late. The slavering cat-man had reached through the bars and caught the man by his throat. There was a clanging sound that rang out over the snarls and screams as the guard’s head banged off the cold iron of the cage, a sickening wet crunching followed as the raging beast pulled the man’s head through the bars and then, in a flash of claw and fang, tore it completely from his shoulders.

In the blood-red seconds it had taken for the first guard to die, the second, at least, had managed to get hands on his steel. “Bloody hell,” he breathed, his horrified gaze seeking out his compatriots, “the beast’s killed Markus!!! Help!!! Hel…” In his hesitation and his panicked cries for assistance, though, the guardsman had made the mistake of turning his back on the cage and taking one step too many backward. He only managed one ineffectual swipe with his blade before the kazari’s claws sank into his throat and his belly. The last thing he saw was that blade falling into the spill of his own guts as he was torn open.

Soaked in his tormentors' blood, Ch'dau raged against his chains and the bars that contained him, and another roar resounded from the stone walls of the dungeon. "Come, monkeys! The Hunt awaits! Bring me more blood for Rrowl!!"

I'll take that as a ringing endorsement!

Thanks, boss! Glad that you approve!

Waking up to not one but two posts!!! I don't know what to do with myself!!!

Great stuff from both of you!

Breebles - I left the description/layout vague on purpose so that you would have some room to interpretas you saw fit. Well done.

Love seeing the "inner workings" of both Kith and Ara's minds in these posts, too.

Got a meeting to attend this morning but will endeavor to get a post of my own tacked up a bit later. 

...It's not like we have a schedule!

Apologies for the creep-factor of that last post but I figure that Adedre ain't quite right and that about sums it up... If I'm wrong, let me know.

Her rounds in the dungeon had been made and, as a result, there were at least three more corpses upon which she might ply her magicks. Now, however, she was tired and, as such, sought a retreat to her chambers. Through the course of the afternoon, though, she had consumed two entire goblets full of the kazari’s blood and, in doing so, the cat-beast’s vigor had been filtered into her own form. Enough so, in fact, that, at first, Adedra almost gave no thought as to how her current contingent of guards might look. For the briefest of instants, she considered doing away with appearances in favor of pleasure but, in the end, as her guard stripped away her crown and gowns, she looked upon them and could not imagine any of the brutes who tended her, now, violating her in the manner she imagined. She let them service her, of course, as they brought her to bare in sight of the various taxiedermied corpses that spotted her bedchamber, but she disallowed them the pleasures and pains they wished to visit upon her patchwork form in favor of summoning fresher and prettier servants from her retinue.

Mildly sedated from the attention of their lips and tongues, Adedre dismissed her guard with orders to summon her chosen violators and sprawled, in damp anticipation, in the high, wing-backed chair that occupied the center of her rooms. A shudder, reminiscent of the attentions of a guard’s tongue, drew her gaze downward and, after a moment spent in self-pleasure, the necromancer looked to where the Ungoulid leg had been sewn to the the stump of her own just two weeks past. Her ingestion of the cat-beast’s blood had gone a long way toward healing that surgery, it seemed, and, as her fingers reached a fever-pitch, she could only imagine what a sacrifice of the kazari on D’Hurgen’s Night might gain her…

“I need those men,” she gasped into the air between herself and the closed doors of her chamber, “NOW!”

“They’re on their way, m’lady,” a meek voice replied from the door’s other side, the tone was both accommodating and irritating, at once, “I have ensured that they’ve eaten the flower and readied themselves for your appetites but…”

“Just tell them to hurry,” Adedre groaned, plucking a curled ram’s horn from the side-table and tracing it along the scar that separated the new, gray, skin from that of what remained of her own yellow-white thigh. After it had skipped tantalizingly over each stitch, she licked to horn’s point, and replaced the attention of her fingers with the inflexibility of the spike and, when those she had summoned arrived, she was more than ready to accept the degradation they heaped upon her. The suffering was exquisite and, in the end, when she had slit all of their throats and lapped their blood from the floor, Adedre Undolithe found herself more than spent and more than worthy of the slumber she into which she had allowed herself to collapse.

Regardless of the suffering and humiliation to which she had subjected herself, though, her sense of tranquility had not lasted long, at all. She awoke with a start, her nether-regions still raw from the abuse she had begged for only hours before and, with each agonizing pulse from the areas below her waist, the crystal orb that dominated the table at the foot of her bed throbbed a red warning. In anguish, the witch slid from her pallet and hobbled toward the palantir. Still bleeding and seeping, she conjured forth the visions that the crystal had to offer. First and foremost amongst the revelations was a picture of her prized captive, the kazari, engaged in conversation with an amorphous form that threatened to free the cat-beast from her grasp. Second came the vision of a lovely, young elven lass with a glowing blade who, if her visions weren’t misleading, would challenge her hold over the kazari should she allow the first vision to come to fruition.

“No,” the witch hissed even as she braced against a spike of torment from her most sensitive of regions, “Nothing will take the promise of that power from me!” Adedre hobbled to where her diaphanous robes hung over the end of a chair and, draping the thing across her shoulders and drawing it closed only enough to conceal the scar where her new leg had been attached, shouted to her attendant in the hall; “Send guards to the dungeon! I want to know that the cat is still there!”

Her sickly golden gaze snatched away from the intricately carved panels of her bedchamber doors, then, and fell back upon the rippling, ebony surface of the palantir. The collaboration between the kazari and the nebulous shadow, she had been expecting for weeks, but the addition of the elf-bitch was new… and disturbing…

If I cannot use this Kazari, she decided, based upon what the crystal revealed to her, I have no choice but to destroy it… and this vague shape that lends it’s aide.

Hovering over the crystal, the witch seethed and the pain below her waist and in her throat diminished. The focus she found in the crytals’ displays, too, faltered and, as she worked the sutures in her thigh loose, she barked further orders to the attendant waiting on the other side of her chamber doors; “Bring my men!”

“O…Of course, M….Mistress!”

Got some ideas for a post from Adedra's POV... Watching TWD, now, but may have someone worth posting tomorrow. 

Description

When looked upon by human eyes (or even those of Sylvari and Khord), Kh’ur Ch’dau is certainly easy to call a monster. Standing at a height above six feet and heavily muscled enough that his weight is often debated, the Kazari appears every inch a humanoid tiger, teeth, claws, tail and all. His powerful frame is covered in a thick coat of silvery-grey fur that, in certain lights, can appear almost white save for the streaks and stripes of black that run through it. His blue-green eyes are large with slitted pupils and, were it not for his fangs and whiskers, might be the first things one would notice should they gaze upon his distinctly feline features. His broad torso is criss-crossed by a pair of wide, leather bandoliers, studded with steel and bone in which his curious, sickle shaped sabers (called falcata) are sheathed when not being employed with deadly effect by the Capashan Cat. Belted about his hips is a distinctly kazari garment called a dak’tar; essentially a skirt of leather strips, studded much like the bandoliers, that serves to protect the upper legs and allows his long, lashing tail to remain free. The kazari’s powerful forearms, too, are wrapped in bracers of the same bone-studded leather as the rest of his garb but, beyond these items, Ch’dau wears no true armor to speak of (though it appears not to trouble him even when faced with battle). There are no gloves on his clawed hands and no boots covering his cat-like feet (or should they be called paws?). Truly Ch’dau’s appearance alone is enough to strike fear in the hearts of any human, elf, or dwarf who might face him.

(I'm estimating height at around 6'6" and weight easily in the neighborhood of 300-350 lbs)

History

Rumor, myth, and legend abound all across Antaron and, as those sorts of things are wont to do, they all flourish or fade with time. Those that fade often do so in absence of substantial proof or even strength of belief, causing the tale to spread only so far and be believed for only so long before the legend withers. The legend of the Silver Cat of Coria is not one of those. In fact, since its first utterance, years ago, as little more than rumor that the Silver Wyvern Company had a Kazari among it’s ranks, the veracity of the tale has only grown and, recently, The Silver Cat has actually been named in first-hand tales told by known members of the Wyverns themselves.

The precise circumstances of how Ku’hr Ch’dau (or simply Ch’dau, if you prefer) came to Antaron from Capasha have yet to be told, but it is known that he was found, near death, on the beaches of Iirlastor Bay along the southern coast of Coria by a contingent of Silver Wyvern mercenaries. Many in the troupe, having never encountered, let alone seen, a Kazari in their lives wanted to “finish what the sea started and put the monster out of it’s misery.” The group’s leader, Roddric Cliff, knew a bit more about the cat-folk of Capasha than his underlings and took the discovery of this rare creature as equal parts omen and opportunity. Cliff and company relieved the comatose cat-man of the curious blades he carried, bound him (for his safety and theirs), and made their way back to the guild hall in Calestra to present their find to Lord Captain Aliex Unthar. The Lord Captain, himself having heard more than a few tales of the cat-folk and their battle prowess, was fascinated by the Kazari but, also, more than a bit wary of the savage looking beast...

 Would it even speak a language they could understand? Would it even bother to speak when and if it awoke or, rather, would it come unhinged and try to tear it’s way through his men the moment it’s eyes opened?

…Again, at the behest of Roddric Cliff, the Lord Captain was convinced to keep the Kazari safe and to see to it that the beast was nursed back to health. “They are not only fierce, my Captain, but honorable, as well,” Cliff had explained to Unthar, “The creature’s arrival on our shores was surely no doing of his own and, should he return to health under our care, I’m willing to guarantee that his honor will find him indebted to us rather than wishing us ill.” Given the trusted counsel of Roddric and his other lieutenants, Unthar conceded and the Kazari was, in fact, restored to health by the Wyvern’s clerics and healers.

The first weeks following Ch’dau’s recovery were difficult in that there was a clashing of cultures and, of course, the language barrier previously worried on by Unthar. However, the cat was quick to learn, it seemed, and was speaking broken Apanonese in a very short time. Also, the violence that the Lord Captain had feared never came in the way he had imagined it might; instead, “The Silver Cat” seemed relieved and honored to have awoken in the company of warriors (in spite of their strange, monkey faces). Once the language barrier had been breached and a modicum of familiarity (if not complete trust) had been established between Ch’dau and Roddric, the pair delved into deeper discussion and what some might have even called negotiations.

The big cat was scarcely on his feet, again before asking… no, demanding… that his weapons be returned and that he be released so that he might find his way home. Upon securing an oath from Ch’dau that they’d not be used against any of the Wyverns’ men, Cliff was happy to return the Kazari’s exotic blades and even engaged in some sparring sessions with the cat-man by way of alleviating some of the creature’s boredom and frustration. The cat’s other request, though, was far more difficult to fulfill. Cliff found himself struggling to explain why it wasn’t possible for them to provide a way back to Capasha from the shores of Antaron and, on more than one occasion, took Ch’dau to the shores where he had been found to point out the storm wracked Titans Walk on the far horizon, explaining that, for all the people of Antaron knew, the imposing stretch of reefs, were impassable if not deadly to any ship that might be available. The disappointment and frustration that Ch’dau felt once he came to understand the futility of trying to cross the reefs became an almost palpable thing and it became clear to Roddric that, should the Kazari’s dejection be allowed to fester without hope, things could quickly get much worse for all of them. So it was that, after some discussion with the Lord Captain and his counsel of Lieutenants, Roddric crafted a deal with the big cat… If Ch’dau would stay and serve with the Wyverns, the mercenary company would use whatever resources it could to discover a way to return the Kazari to his home and people.

With the bargain struck, the legend of The Silver Cat of Coria was truly seeded and began to take root outside the confines of the Wyverns’ garrisons. Tales of a fierce tiger that walked and talked like a man but fought with the savagery of a beast spread quickly beyond the borders of Coria in those first months Ch’dau served with the Wyverns, bolstering the roots of the legend and causing it to flourish, quickly enough, throughout the Five Kingdoms in the months and years that followed. There were few who had faced the Kazari on the fields of battle who survived to relate first-hand accounts, of course, but there had been plenty of tales from witnesses of those battles to elevate the rumors from the level of fairytale to worriedly whispered concern about a monster in the ranks of the Silver Wyvern Company. In time, the stories were given enough credence that those who faced the Wyverns saw desertions from their forces increase at just the prospect of having to face The Silver Cat of Coria in combat. Even those that contracted the Wyvern’s found themselves uneasy at the prospect of a monster in their midst and, in whatever garrison Ch’dau served, people kept their families and livestock far from the mercenary outpost, making sure that they properly secured against being eaten by the “savage beast” despite the fact that the Kazari was fighting at their behest.

I caught that reference!

Soooo, yeah, shameless plug just in case any of you missed it: Breebles, Reralae, and myself have finally gotten around to kicking off an adventure (or, likely, a series of them) that's going to detail 1) how Kithran and Ch'dau first met, 2) what sort of mischief they got up to and how they came to be such good friends before the events of Hidden Corruption, and 3) how they came to know Aranwen.

We've just gotten started, really, but we are under way and I figure that now's a good a time as any to extend an invitation to any of you who might have an interest in joining. Bring in your character from this game or whip up a new one, I don't think it matters as we'd love to have any of you in whatever capacity. First posts are available for your perusal at The Adventures of Kith and the Cat. 

EDIT: Yeah, I think the prequel business is going to have an impact on how Ch'dau interacts with Aranwen, too. He's always respected her martial prowess, of course, but, given some of the "behind the scenes" conversations that I've had with the Butterfly, there may just be a deeper connection there... Shhhh... #NoSpoilers

Since I've already mentioned "The Burning" and it's proximity in game, I suppose I should also point out that that puts the start of our game (not including Ara's "flashbacks") at the start of Fall on Antaron. Creeping up on the end of the 8th month of the Ethrynian calendar year, in fact.

Here's a link to that calendar and some of the more important/notable dates/festivals for your reference. The Ehtrynian Calendar