Morgan awoke to a paw in his eye. Brushing the small tabby cat from his face, he looked at the bed to see that he was surrounded by the kittens, they’d obviously climbed up onto the bed in the night to use his body heat. He looked at the window to see that the sun had only started to show, so he knew it was early. He laid back, stroking the small creatures that surrounded him as they purred. He checked to see his rested status. It was soon apparent that he wasn’t going to get back to sleep, so he got up to the squeaking complaint of the kittens and washed himself. He scooped all the kittens into a wriggling bundle that he managed to hold in one arm and headed downstairs.
Umberto greeted him as he came down the stairs, pausing as he spied the animals under Morgan’s arm. “Good morning to ye lad. Just what have ye got there?”
Morgan completed the stairs, moving to the bar and dumping the fluffy load on the bar where they started to wriggle around and right themselves. Umberto’s grizzled face broke into a radiant smile. “Oh my. Aren’t they the cutest.” the scarred dwarf immediately set to flipping kittens over and tickling their bellies. “I haven’t seen a kitten in years, cats are rare here. How did you get hold of this lot? What happened to the cows then?”
Morgan sighed, and recounted yesterday's tale to the slightly distracted innkeeper as the dwarf played contentedly with the kittens on the counter. He finished the tale and was showing off the Bag of Cats to the innkeeper when the dwarf finally joined in, “The ginger lad is a big boy, isn’t he. Anyway, I’m sorry it all went so sideways for ye, but at least ye got the cash ye need to keep going.” He handed Morgan a couple of lengths of leather cord he grabbed from behind the bar. “Use one of these to hang that there bag about your neck, best place for it.”
Morgan complied, threading the cord through the drawstrings and tying it into a tight loop. The bag safely around his neck, he held out the other length of cord. “What's this one for?”
Umberto grinned broadly. “Oh, it's for them.” He gestured to the counter. Morgan held one end of the string and dragged the other end down the bar as they both watched the clumsy beasts falling over each other trying to grab it. After a while of this, Morgan questioned the dwarf,
“Do you know what I’m going to need to feed these creatures? As far as I’m aware they just eat meat.”
Umberto nodded in agreement. “There's a butcher a few streets over, go pick up some offal from there and give it a try.”
Morgan acceded to the idea, asking Umberto to keep an eye on the kittens while he went out to shop. He could summon them into the bag, but it felt wrong for some reason and he thought he better keep them out of it as much as possible. The dwarf accepted the proposition with delight, and Morgan headed out to the butcher.
It was a quick walk, and he found himself in front of a burly man in a bloody apron surrounded by cuts of meat. “Excuse me, I’m looking for some food for some cats, can you help?” The man looked curiously at him, replying in a deep and booming voice, “Cats? That’s a rare creature. My great nan had one, got it from a trader that travelled across the great sea. Savage little thing it was. They eat any meat really, no point in wasting these nice cuts.” the man gestured to his meaty display, “Let me have a look around and see what we’ve got.” The man disappeared into the back, coming back soon after with a gruesome tray full of assorted animal organs and offcuts. “I’ll do it for you cheap,” the man offered, “How much do you need?”
Morgan thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I’ll take the lot.” The man raised an eyebrow at Morgan. “Must be a big cat, but that’s no problem, happy to be rid of the stuff. It’s yours for...” the man eyed the tray, “...20 silvers, so around a silver per kilo.” Morgan agreed, handing over the silvers as the man slid the offal off the tray into a hessian sack that immediately stained with gore. Morgan hefted the sack before, to the surprise of the shopkeeper, fitting it into the new animal feed slot in his inventory.
As he exited the butcher, he thought about provisioning for himself and almost turned to go back into the butchers before thinking he’d probably need something a bit handier than raw meat. Checking his cash, he found he had 76 silvers over the 5 gold he needed. He had two of the loaves left, and admittedly he was getting a little bored of bread and butter for every meal, no matter how good it was. He could afford to spend a bit, though he reasoned he should keep at least half a gold on him in case of emergency. After a small walk toward the docks, he bought a dozen delicious smelling kebabs from a street vendor for 6 silvers and stuffed them in his inventory.
Now sorted, he turned and started wandering slowly back to the inn, withdrawing a kebab and tucking in. He was appreciating the flavour of the meat when an item in a mining equipment shop caught his eye, and he moved up to the window where it was displayed.
[Identify – Old Pouch Bandolier]
[Durability – 40/40]
[Defence – 1]
It was a bandolier belt, made of canvas and leather, a loop to be placed over one shoulder and sit on the opposite hip, the belt running up the chest and down the back. Along the belt were six sturdy canvas pouches running up its front, with a leather tool holster attached where the belt would meet the hip. He walked into the shop and addressed the woman behind the counter. “Excuse me, how much is it for that bandolier there?” He gestured towards where he’d seen the item in the window. Smiling pleasantly, the lady responded, “Oh, the Pouch Bandolier? It’s 35 silvers.” she saw Morgans look of dismay and continued, “It’s a very useful item for many classes, the pouches can store tools, equipment, potions, explosives and the like without taking up inventory space.” Morgan nodded, trying to weigh up if he really wanted it, especially as it would dip into his freshly established emergency fund. A few minutes later he walked out with the bandolier slung over his homespun shirt, 35 silvers poorer.
When he made it back to the inn, he found the innkeeper sleeping in his chair behind the bar. The two black kittens on each of his broad shoulders lazily playing with the dwarf's bushy beard, while the ginger kitten slept in his lap, and the tabby slept belly up on top of the innkeeper's head, its paws twitching gently as it snoozed. The two remaining kittens, the white and the small grey, were busy ineffectively battling each other around Umberto’s feet. Morgan gazed smiling at the incongruous scene of the scarred innkeeper and the pack of kittens for a moment, before knocking lightly on the bar. The dwarf sputtered awake, somehow managing to catch the tabby as it fell off his head, squeaking, from the awakening movement.
“Ach, must have dozed off for a moment there.” The dwarf looked around to count all his charges. “I was playing with them for a bit before I sat down, before I know it, they’re sleeping all over me. I guess I couldn't resist joining in.” Umberto looked a little sheepish as he scratched the ginger kitten between the ears.
Morgan grinned at him, “Looks like everyone's safe, and it’s breakfast time.” He pulled out some bits of meat from his inventory, and the kittens all perked up and swarmed around his feet yowling at him. He placed the meat on the floor and watched as they hungrily devoured the scraps. When they’d finished, a text box appeared.
[You have reached Cat Herder : Level 2]
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He looked back at the tiny creatures, and perhaps it was his imagination, but it seemed like they had all just grown a fraction. Turning to Umberto, he reluctantly declared, “I’ll be sad to leave you, but it’s about time I headed over to the outpost. It’ll likely take most of the day. Here,” He handed the innkeeper another loaf, leaving one left in his inventory. The dwarf thanked him vigorously before setting to the bread, while Morgan started to collect the kittens.
He placed them in the bandolier pouches, the big ginger kitten to the pouch near his hip, and the small grey up by his shoulder, the rest spread between. He drew the hatchet out of his inventory and placed it in the tool holster at the lowest point of the bandolier, where it fit satisfyingly snugly. Thus equipped, he tried walking around the room to check his load. He adjusted the bandolier slightly, tying a small strap by the tool holster around a belt loop to comfortably secure it, before turning to the dwarf and saying his goodbyes.
It took him a while to get away, the dwarf extracting from him a promise he’d bring the cats and come visit sometime, but he made it out of the dingy inn and started off through the city. It was another busy day, and he blinkered himself so as to not get distracted by the vendors and their goods scattered along his route. He passed through the west gate without incident and started off along the coast. The arid land around him gradually rising as he walked the road, which rose with the cliff, leaving the sandy beach below. He passed a few characters and players along the way and was knocked out of his walking reverie when two ladies clad in buffed leather armour approached him. One was a human with swords on her hips, one an elf with a bow on her back, and both that sort of angular make-up advert beautiful.
The elf started up talking to her friend in a whiny but enthusiastic voice, “Oh my GOD. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? I just don’t believe it.” They both ogled at him before he cottoned on and looked down at himself. The kittens, who had been sleeping soundly before, had woken up and were poking their little heads out from the top of the pouches, lifting the unbuttoned flaps.
He looked up and smiled at the girls, “Hi, uh, don’t mind me, I’ve -” The girls cut him off, almost squealing, “Let us pet them, please-please-pleeease.” Morgan didn’t really know how he felt about that, other than feeling very defensive of his tiny new companions. He took a small step back before steadying himself. “You can pet a head or two only, OK? Be gentle, they’re very young.”
The two women took off their gloves and quickly moved in, cooing as they tousled the little heads. After a few seconds, he saw the human woman move try to take the white one out of its pouch and he reacted quickly, stepping back and giving her a stern glance.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, OK, I just couldn’t resist that little face; have you seen those eyes? I just wanna cuddle it so hard!” the human pleaded rapidly with him.
Morgan replied, diplomatically; “Look, I really need to get moving, but it was nice to meet you.” They looked at him and the kittens forlornly for a second, before the elf instantly cheered up and addressed Morgan. “Thank you, like, so much for letting us stroke them. My GOD it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen. I’m Lana and this is Lauren. Sorry for Lauren’s manners. We owe you one, OK? So give us a call sometime.” She winked at Morgan before they set back off towards the city, giggling to each other. With a shrug, he added them to his friends list and carried on.
Wanting to avoid further encounters, but not wanting to button the kittens into the pouches or transfer them to the mysterious Bag of Cats, he looked for an alternate path. He’d seen at intervals, a small path that travelled above the coastal cliff road, and after a short walk he found a rocky trail upwards. Following it, he emerged on the path above the road, the sun high in the air above him, the sea low to his left, below the cliff's edges. The winding path mostly kept sight of the road, wending its own erratic path in the increasingly rocky terrain. At points he had to crash through bushes or climb over some debris to get to the next section, but he managed to get through with little trouble. When he judged it was about mid-afternoon, he stopped to sit on a rock in for a late kebab lunch. He released the kittens onto the dusty ground and, brushing off a section of rock, put some meat scraps down for them. Once they’d all had their fill, he packed them back into the pouches and they carried on.
Soon, he came to a point that overlooked the outpost and stopped before the edge of the cliff to look. An imposing fortress, cut of dark stone, sat on the end of a peninsula that jutted sharply out into the sea. At the neck of the mile-long strip of land was series of sturdy wooden palisades before a river that cut it off from the mainland, and after the river a solid looking grey wall. Between these defences and the fortress, was a grey town of hewn stone and slate tile. Three roads joined before the palisade. The road below him ran straight until it curved to the defences then straightened back out, continuing along the coast to the west. Another road struck north from the other, originating at the town's defences. He gazed over the vista for a minute, trying to etch the land into his memory.
He was interrupted by the belt of kittens starting to mew cacophonously. Wondering what was disturbing them, he spun from the view, checking into a pouch to see a tiny black face, mouth open and fangs on display, mewling from the bottom of its tiny lungs. He looked up to see a wolf, that had been stealthily but rapidly moving towards him from the direction he’d come. It froze as he spotted it, and it tensed.
[Identify - Wolf : Level 7]
[Race - Monster/Canine]
[HP - 290/290]
[SP - 298/320]
It was about 10 meters away, and Morgan reached for his weapons, holding the hatchet in his right hand and the sickle in his left. The wolf raised its sleek head, growled and padded forward. He fumbled, weapons in his hands, to open the Bag of Cats; he hadn’t thought about it in time, but they’d likely be hurt where they were on his chest. The wolf sensed the opportunity of his distraction; covering the distance with amazing speed.
Before he could react, he was bowled over onto his back. The slavering beast leapt onto him, and though he tried to lurch out of the way, the wolf’s left paw pinned his right shoulder to the ground, digging in its claws and doing a minor amount of damage. Morgan bought his left hand up, slamming the haft of the sickle into the side of the beast's head, managing to divert the jaws that headed for his neck. With his other hand, he awkwardly swiped at the wolf’s leg that was near it on the ground. Somehow, he managed to connect with the blade of the hatchet and the stunned wolf topped off him.
He pushed himself away, and reached for the Bag of Cats, still trying to get the kittens to safety. The wolf was too quick to recover, leaping up and biting him hard on his leg, causing him to grunt in pain and drop the bag again. The monster didn’t let go, continuing to savage his leg as his health points drained until he swung the axe. He managed a solid blow to the side of its head, the blade sinking in and blinding it in one eye, causing it to yelp and reel back, unclamping his leg. He managed to get to his feet, his wounded and bloody limb just about taking his weight.
He looked to see the wolf, shaking itself in rage, glaring at him with its one good eye. The wolf’s gaze left him for a moment, darting to its left to the cliff edge. He followed the gaze to where he saw a small white kitten playing with a twig. It must have fallen out of its pouch when he was knocked down.
The man and wolf locked gazes again, before the beast turned and rushed towards the kitten sitting at the cliffs edge. Morgan turned to follow, ignoring the pain in his leg, but saw he wouldn’t make it in time. If he opened the Bag of Cats now, there was a fair chance the wolf would catch it as it went past. His panic rising as he ran towards the inevitable slaughter of his charge, he threw his hatchet at the wolf with all his might. The axe miraculously hit, sinking into the haunch of the monster as it was beginning its leap at the kitten; which was now on its feet hissing at the wolf, back arched and fur standing upright. The blow knocked it off balance, and instead of completing its pounce, it skidded to the edge of the cliff, missing the kitten by centimetres; one of its legs sliding off edge in a spray of dust. As the wolf frantically tried to pull itself from the precipice, Morgan, still propelled by his momentum, slammed into the creature with his shoulder. The wolf looked at Morgan with wild, rolling eyes, lashing at him with its jaws as it rapidly scrabbled for purchase on the dusty ground. It found none and fell with a howl onto the rocks below. A second later, the howling stopped suddenly, and notifications popped up.
[You have killed Wolf : Level 7 : +500XP]
[You have reached Level 5]
[You have reached Cat Herder : Level 3]
Morgan looked over the edge of the cliff; he could see the corpse of the wolf on the rocks around 50 meters below, the hatchet still stuck in its body. He moved over and scooped the little white cat back into its pouch, doing a quick headcount of the rest. One he was satisfied that all were present, he looked down the cliff once more. He quickly realised both the body with its loot and the hatchet were inaccessible and lost to him now.
He put the sickle away in the tool holster where the axe had been, leaving its sheath empty on the other hip. Limping away from the cliff edge, he sat down on a low rock. Feeling the pain in his savaged leg, he wished he had a bit of salve, or a potion to take the edge off. After a brief rest, he got up, brushed himself down and hobbled on down the path.