A Catfolk (Author: RiverSkix)

Green eyes stare back at you in the dark, one alert and glowing, one cloudy and drifting. It's too muddy to make out much else, but you're familiar enough with how you look—looking at the cleaner of the wells in the city above, wanted posters in the alleyways when you'd pulled off something big enough, even the pilfered mirror of a semi-important noblewoman once had made you well aware of your appearance. Not that it was anything impressive—you're a black-and-gray-furred felidae, one of the many catfolk who call the underbelly of Ondell home. Your face is gaunt, your body sickly-thin, and your tattered tunic and threadbare cloak do little to protect you from the elements. From the wanted posters, you know the Guard guesses you're about 5'5"—you don't know if catfolk are normally that short, or if hunger stunted your growth, but you're stuck with it by now.

Crouching in the corner, you take this moment of relative solitude while the others are asleep or out and pull up your status sheet, hopeful for a change, any change.

Level 2 Felidae Guttersnipe
[Monster, Beastfolk, Feline, Explicit]
Experience to Level Up: 200

Attributes:

Strength: 20 (-5), Dexterity: 30 (-5), Endurance: 12 (-5)

Charisma: 20, Manipulation: 25, Appearance: 15 (-5)

Perception: 30(-15), Intelligence: 20, Wits: 40

Skills:

Athleticism: 15
Larceny: 20
Lore: 15
Stealth: 20
Survival: 5

Feats:
Pitiful Appearance: You look like you're at 's door. Upon Social checks [CHA/MAN/APP], +15 to PCs and NPCs with the Merciful trait.
Pack Tactics: Hit chance, crit chance, and dodging are buffed when at least two others are fighting the same opponent as you. Buff scales with additional fighters.
Feline Agility [Racial Trait]: Your body is limber and agile, like a cat writ large. Acrobatic actions are significantly easier for you, falling damage reduced by 75%, slight dodge increase.
Feline Flexibility [Racial Trait]: Your body is lithe and flexible, like a cat writ large. You can fit through extremely tight places and contort your body to an unusual degree.
Cat's Eye [Racial Trait]: You have High Night Vision in non-supernatural dark and dim conditions. Your eyes glow subtly in the dark.
Cat's Claws [Racial Trait]: Your fingers are tipped with sharp retractable claws. +5 cutting damage to Unarmed Attacks while unobstructed.
Wanted (Ondell): The Ondell City Guard knows your face—default hostile reactions from Ondell City Guard NPCs and allied PC factions.
Half-Blind [Persistent Injury]: A severe injury in your past blinded you in one eye. Permanent -50% to Perception.
Starving: You need to eat, and badly. -5 to all physical attributes, -5 to Appearance, -20% HP. Disappears after 5 consecutive days with the Well-Fed status.
Tale-bearer: You know by heart the stories of other, better times. Tell them well.

Nothing new. Damnation and destruction. Well, you weren't that surprised; felidae never got anything new, with only minor changes over the dozens of updates since being added in 0.0.5.3.3.0.1. Ages ago, you'd overheard a few adventurers while begging—apparently there was some sort of plan for catfolk that fell through, either a major update or even a full expansion that never managed to materialize, and the initial preparations were implemented but abandoned. Ondell was one of the few cities that had felidae spawns—you.

Well, you and your... there wasn't a good term for them. There were 10 or 15 other catfolk in Ondell, most of them calling the storm sewers (which this cave was part of, technically) home. You sure as hell weren't a family, most of you weren't even friends, but you stuck together. It was what you had to do, to survive on the streets. Not that surviving was something that happened much either—you and the others were the focus of a tutorial quest designed to demonstrate the various ways PCs could resolve conflicts. There was the ever-present solution of , or having mercy and giving food or coin to the starving cats, or even simply intimidating you all out of the sewers. Unfortunately for you, the quest was given by the Guard—and between panhandling, petty burglary, pickpocketing, and even some muggings, all of you had more than qualified for in the Guard's eyes. Killing you meant a sizeable reward and decent XP—for beginners—plus a few baubles and coppers in loot drops. Intimidation received half the bounty price and half the XP. Mercy received 25% XP and the knowledge you did the right thing.

You could count the number of times PC groups had chosen mercy on one hand. Every time, you swore to remember their faces—but after and respawn after respawn has faded them in your mind, until you could barely remember even the most recent one.

Irritated at the memory, you rise from squinting in the muddy puddle and look around the cavernous room. Moonlight shines from the dripping grate above—it looks like the dead of night. Around you, you see a few others. Scars and Slick are snoring loudly, probably sleeping off hangovers from stolen rum. Jitter is in his bed, but must not be sleeping yet; you know he doesn't shiver when he's sleeping. Ratty is at the door, keeping watch—you can tell it's her, because she's the only one who doesn't sleep on watch. Jingo's in the stocks. That means that Scruff, Barber, Gekko, and Pitch are all out—and at this hour, that means they must be up to something.

You already know tomorrow will be trouble.