A Strahd Tail

Disappointment from the previous evening hung heavily in Serenity’s mind, alongside a splitting hangover. She forced herself down to breakfast, only to find that in her drunken state she had booked herself into a tavern that seemed to only serve sausages, which was disappointing. By this point Serenity had already resigned herself to another disappointing day when the barmaid brought over a plate of what looked like boiled leaves to her table in the darkest corner of the tavern. She accepted them, paid and sat quietly eating. Then some other patrons entered the room, Serenity ignored them. But they were noisy. Serenity glanced across at them, she began to tremble slightly and suddenly felt quite sick. It had been so long since she had seen another Tabaxi, let alone one with white fur like those from Serenity's mountain home. The shock brought back distressing images to Serenity's mind. She took a deep breath, concentrated on meditating and eating and tried to numb out the t...

The barkeep placed the drinks in a row on the bar, glancing between Serenity and the door, as if expecting a large party to arrive to join her. She paid him little attention and filled her travelling flask with glass after glass for the journey, drank one to remember absent family, another for friends lost and finally left the last glass standing alone on the bar as she left to find lodgings for the night. Always a lonely glass for the Abbot. A toast left un-drunk for all the good in the world. The Storm The Snowflake Mountains were vast, slicing upwards through the clouds. The monastery, carved into the rock face of a nameless peak, sat just above the cloud layer. On a calm day, the clouds lapped against the stairs leading to the monastery entrance like a layer of foam. To descend the mountain was to submerge into the clouds as if disappearing under the sea. On the days that were not calm, black storm clouds would envelop the peak; the windows and doors would be bolted closed and the ...

In the small walled town of Daggerford, along the River Delimbiyr, not too far from the famed city of Waterdeep, a scarred warrior waited alone in a crowded tavern, nursing an ale that he touched from time to time. The pit boss had summoned Hoskgak for a chat in the Warped Cudgel Inn. His fight was only a few hours away. What could the man want? The half-orc looked anxiously to the entrance of the Inn, then back at his drink, of which he would take a sip, then at his sword, then at the entrance, the drink, the sword. He had located himself at the furthest table of the inn, but with a view of the door. He stayed consistent: one sip at the beer, one touch on the sword next to him, one look at the door, repeat. An awkward silence invaded the Inn along with a Tabaxi. People were unfamiliar with them. They were always first curious, and then later hateful, as Hoskgak had found out many times. As the creature stepped in, gazes followed. Weirdly looking at her tail, the Tabaxi meandered betwe...

Hoskgak was born to an orcish mother and human father. His father, an enterprising mercenary, worked with a band of orcs, a small clan that was part of the Blood Moon tribe in Cormyr. His mother, named Ghorza, lived at the encampment and was curious about the human who lived amongst their midst. When Hoskgak was born, it was a great shame to her, as the clan looked down on interspecies relations, particularly with weak and puny humans. Tradition would have demanded that he be fed to the wargs, but Ghorza opposed it and got her way. She could not bear to let her child die like that, even if he was monstrous to her clan and a symbol of her shame. Hoskgak’s father left the clan when he was still very young. It is unclear whether he simply left or was killed during one of the clan’s sorties. Even while he was still around, he took no great interest in the child. Hoskgak grew up without a father, and with a mother who was looked down upon by the whole clan, and herself was ashamed of this c...

Meet Destiny. She is 18. She is a Tabaxi. https://ddb.ac/characters/42247734/SkTv8I Destiny was born on the first harvest day of the year, which in the custom of the Twilight Lagoon Clan symbolises hope. And so she was named Destiny of Hope, which she in time came to appreciate is a very pretty name. By all accounts, Destiny was unremarkable and she felt it so. In the company of humans, she stood out as having a curious personality, always keen to explore and understand and ask blunt, sometimes rather awkward questions. Yet amongst the clan she was just another Tabaxi. If she was ever destined for anything it seemed to be for normality. How tedious, she would think, gazing at her tail’s reflection in the lagoon on moonlit nights. This story is about the change. One day, on her way out to hunt some lunch for herself, Destiny, spotted a firefly. In itself that would not have been odd, but it was the middle of the day, and the firefly was a strange colour too, a deep, icy blue hue that s...