Eternal Catgrrl


Archetype/Play Style

1. At such high levels, most people will at least have heard a story about your character, no matter how low a profile you attempt to keep. Describe a DC 10 (basic knowledge) Knowledge: Local check someone could make about your character.

Her name is Desire, the gladiator who made Prince Gilead fall in love with her. (Epic Reputation!)

2. What “Party Role” (tank, buffer, skill monkey, skirmisher, blaster, etc) do you feel your character will occupy? (This doesn’t need a long answer)

Daggery death.

3. What do you see this character doing in combat? Please be very specific. If there is a particular spell or attack routine that you would prefer to be able to use, this is the place where you let me know.

The stuff you suggested. Jumping into battle using catfolk pounce and sneak attack dice.

4. What sort of challenges (combat and non-combat) do you feel would be interesting for this character to encounter?

I have no idea.

5. Does the idea of consorting with the gods interest you at all? It’s been kind of a wonky issue in the email thread, so I am asking you again.

Yes. Especially Cat. Maybe a visit to Catcall Tower.



0. Give me some vital statistics: Where were you born? How old are you? What do you look like? Where do you call home?

I had a home, where I was born, on the Feverdew Plains, where the
flying insects and the cool night temperatures keep the travelers far
and few between. The thicker skin of the Catfolk allowed most except
the weakest among us to survive and thrive there.

I was close with my mother until age six, when she birthed another and
sent me out into the village to find my way and so she could devote
herself to my new brother. I found food at different houses, slept in
kitten piles with other children, and worked when and where I was
asked, hunting for the pride. I danced in the circle at the solstice
and the equinox, and was held among the elders as having some skill.
When I became a woman, I would be trained as a priestess perhaps, to
interpret Cat’s lessons and words. Late in my twelfth year, my mother
sent my mat-brother, Meerin, into the village, and I guided him and
let him sleep with me when he didn’t prefer the company of other
children his age.

Then there was war with men. I fought, in the manner of my people,
but was injured and then captured and sold to Gemp of the city of
Zerin, the capital in the Red Kingdom. My wounds were healed by the
time I was sold. Gemp was a fighting master at the Oasis Coliseum. I
was thrown to the fighting stables, locked in the tunnels under the
coliseum itself. The women were segregated from the men. We were fed
a thick gruel paste in the mornings, meats in the afternoon, and bread
at night. Sundays they gave us fruit in addition to the rest of our
meal. I saved my bread and and the skins and seeds of my fruit to
catch rats, insects, and birds. I missed the sweet grass of the

I was expected to die in my first fight, but I fought and killed my
first foe. He was the first of nine. I remember every death. I
regret none. Those who did not try to kill me, I let live.

After the first fight, an old man named Brudin took an interest in me.
I had won the first fight by surprising my opponent. I would not
have that advantage later. He taught me to focus my ki, methods of
acrobatics, fighting with a weapon in each hand, the skills of an
invisible blade and those of a gladitorial ninja. Two years passed
quickly. Brudin was killed in a fight and I wept bitterly at his
loss. I continued my training without him, using what he had taught

My developing woman’s body, along with my tiger-striped skin and
vibrant red hair caused a stir among the crowds. I began to fight in
less clothing rather than armor, working distraction and dance into my
routine and became a premier fighter. That was around the time that I
garnered the attention of the prince.

I now have 27 years.

1. Why did you take up Adventuring? What keeps you adventuring? Surely you could have retired more than comfortably by now.

I lived, if you can call it living, in the coliseum tunnels for seven
years. It was expected by the common people and the other gladiators
that I’d fight my way to freedom—as the contracts for most fighters
are seven years, but Gemp had other plans.

As my popularity grew, after five years of fighting, two of them
without a single defeat, among my admirers in the crowd there was one
who threw me a single purple rose at each of my victories. Not the
common red, white, or yellow roses that fell in abundance, but a fine
and rare flower with a perfume like taro that could not grow in any
garden. Who was he? Prince Gilead, son of King Durrango, and heir to
the throne.

Though he freed me from the tunnels, I was his consort for six years,
and still had no freedom. Now I wander the land, enjoying the
freedoms of choice and movement I dreamed of as a kitten on the

2. What family and/or friends do you have, and what do they think about your Adventuring? Where do these people live?

Our village was decimated by the war. If any of my pride brothers and
sisters live on, I know not where or how. There was one friend I made
among the fighting stables that reminded me—if not in stature then in
behavior, somehow, of my mat-brother. He was called Trammis Chree,
with amber-colored skin, green hair, and stood over twenty feet in
height. He was born of the giants of the north lands where he claimed
the trees grew to heights three times as high as the coliseum.
Somehow he had put himself into the stables, selling his freedom for
training—not realizing what life he was selling himself to. We made
a great duo, with his height and strength, in addition to his
surprising quickness for his size, but I always felt most indignant
about the fighting life and the labyrinthine quarters when the fights
were over and I watched him duck his head as he entered the tunnels
once more. On more than one occasion, Gemp beat me soundly for
voicing dissatisfaction and calling for Trammis Chree’s release.

He had been there thirteen years when I came. I should have realized
then that the word of Gemp was worthless, that he would do the same to
me if he had a chance, but it took bitter experience to teach me that
lesson. There was always one more battle I’d have to fight, one more
duel to the death against some champion or other that became the
qualification for my release. The first time he changed the stakes
after the fact, I knew I had to find another way.

3. What Great Deed(s) have you done that you’re proud of?

Four years undefeated in the Oasis Coliseum. The theft of the grand
vizier’s circlet from his vault.

4. Your Adventuring career has probably spawned at least one nemesis, unless you’ve killed them all. Who hates you, whom do you hate, and why? If you’ve actually killed them all, how do you feel about that?

Gemp hates me for the freedom I obtained for myself and for Trammis
Chree, despite his maneuverings, depriving him of the stature and
monies that further fights would have won him. The plight of Trammis
touched me—his head brushed the top of his cell, and his mistake,
long since regretted, had cost him the formative years of his life.

My means of escape came in the person of Prince Gilead who, inflamed
with desire, sent agents to speak to me, to see what manner of woman
and warrior I was. I spurned his advances in this manner for two
years, saying that he should come and see me himself if he so wished
to treat with me, and that I would be pleased at his visit. My curt
refusals tempered with this suggestion only inflamed him further, so
that the offers, which began with one hour, then two, then three, then
a night, grew in frequency and length. One day, then two, one night
of every week, two nights, one week of every year, and so on. After
two years of increasing offers and refusals, he finally came himself,
and offered to buy my freedom from Gemp if I would be his concubine.

I came close to the bars of my cell where he stood, and breathed in
the scent of him. He smelled, if not like a fighting man, still a
man, not of the taro-scent of the purple blooms I’d come to associate
with him. I pressed my breasts to the bars and told him I would
consider his offer if he would consider mine: to arrange not only my
release, but that of Trammis Chree, who of any of us in the pits, had
more than won his freedom five times over.

He claimed he could never do such a thing, and I claimed that he
should not come back to see me if so.

In every fight he attended after, I fought in a loincloth and
string-top, much like the ones you see me wearing now. In the arena, I
danced, I touched the other warriors’ faces, I spun and thrust my hips
more wildly than ever.

A month passed before Prince Gilead acquiesced. The release of
Trammis Chree was bought, and though I knew Gemp would do all in his
power to twist the bargain, ultimately the prince’s agents would know
and Gemp would be forced to do what he’d been paid to. I earned
Gemp’s enmity the day that I left, and he’d had mine for seven years.
Of the nine warriors I killed, while I do not regret their deaths, I
blame Gemp for all of them. I would relish the chance to fight him in
the arena someday.

5. You’re not a robot (even if you are a warforged). Who do you love (even if they do not love you back)?

I have a kind of love for my prince, for Gilead, who instead of taking
me to his bedchamber on the first night, told me he had waited long
enough to wait until I came to his bed of my own choice. After nine
weeks, I acquiesced. He was surprised to find my maidenhead
intact—but of all the beatings and improper food of the fighting
stables, sex and rape were forbidden, as the gladiators were seen to
be more aggressive without relief of that kind. The close bonds,
vengeance, or pregnancies that might result of such intercourse were
also not to be tolerated. (One half-orc warrior woman broke this
rule. She was called Sethe and gave birth to a child—after she gave
birth, Gemp sold them both—separately. Her to another fighting
master in a far away city, and the child I know not where to.)

I was one of five concubines. Gilead had not taken a wife, as
instructed by his father. Three of them had produced girl children
for him. I was relegated to the women’s rooms, but even with my own
chamber, I was reminded of the cells in the coliseum. I had traded
one kind of imprisonment for another. Then, after seven months of
visiting his bed, I gave birth to a son and was elevated to consort.
Even so, my freedom was by no means unlimited. Now I had run of the
palace, but no freedom to leave it.

I continued to focus my ki energy, and learned finally how to walk
like the ghost, so that I could phase through the walls of the palace
and explore its vaults and secret places, then later the city itself
(though only at night under cover of darkness).

I came back before morning, usually before being missed, and though
Gilead sometimes remarked upon my absence, I lied convincingly enough
that he let the matter alone. We reached an accord. When my son,
Turok Trameer turned six, and Gilead took yet another concubine, not
even my nightly forays could assuage my need to wander.

I had been there seven years. Seven years in the pits, and seven in
the palace. It was time. Gilead let me go, with the sworn promise
that in seven years I will return to see him and Turok once more, and
write letters in between.

Though I have a love for my son, who is a possible heir to the throne
of the Red Kingdom, it is a removed love—perhaps in the way of all of
my people, where knowing he is safe and healthy is enough. He is old
enough now to roam and care for himself, as I did when I was his age.

6. What is your character’s greatest hope or favorite dream? What makes them happy?

I love flying on my flying carpet, and sleeping beneath the night sky.
I sometimes dream of finding my mat-brother Meerin. He’d be a man
now. In the dreams I have, I am always freeing him from some
imprisonment. I hope to someday visit Catcall Tower to meet Cat, if
he is truly there, as they say.

7. What is your character’s darkest fear or worst nightmare? Do they have any lesser fears or phobias?

In my worst nightmare, I am imprisoned in a cage that is as wide as my
elbows at my sides and my body standing. I cannot get out.

8. What do you see this character doing over the course of the story? Do you see them changing in some way, confronting that nemesis you wrote about, dying bravely?

I am interested in riding in that flying ship, and though I will not
join the party in any time-losing activities, the freedom of travel
allowed by a ship of that kind intrigues me mightily. Perhaps it
would even go as far as Catcall Tower? To the land of the giants, to
see what became of Trammis Chree?


OMG UBERGAMING WTF TraceyLanderGarrett