Sigil: City of Doors

Basic Information
Name: Rysk
Aliases: Tabby, Kitteh, Smarty
Gender: Female
Race: Cat.
Age: Young.
Profession: -
Languages: Many.
Accent: Meowing. When and if she speaks, it resembles melodic meowing first and foremost until the listener catches up with the actual words there.

Physical Information
Size: House cat.
Weight: Light.
Body build: Slim and agile.
Fur type: Silken, well preened.
Coloring:

[b]Fur:[/b] Multicolored tabby. [b]Eyes:[/b] Green. [/li]

Mental Information
Alignment: CN
Philosophy: Have fun!
Deity/Beliefs: Erevan Ilerese, “the Fey Jester”.
Personality:

(examples) [u]Open[/u]: [i]Fast friends with about anyone who stops for a chat.[/i] [u]Carefree[/u]: [i]Lacks seriousness.[/i] [u]Curious[/u]: [i]Curiosity is her middle name.[/i] [u]Hedonist[/u]: [i]A hedonist just like any cat.[/i] [/li]

Additional Information
Gear: -
Jewelry: -
Habits/hobbies: Arcane studies. Tends to cause small scale mayhem at times, inadvertly however, or then in purpose, who knows.
General Health: Perfect health.
Favorite Drink: Cream.
Weaknesses: Catnip Â…

Oddities

Rysk was born a cat, she was a cat to the last hair of fur, there was no doubt about it – a happy cat at that, too, for she was born to a cozy home with a number of siblings.

Her life though took a turn – not a bad turn, but an exciting expedition – when an elven wizard strolled past the house and stopped by to ask for lodging and meal over night. She liked the wizard, the way he ruffled her fur, making her purr merrily.

Whether there had been any arrangement or not by the bipeds, Rysk decided the next morning to follow the wizard, padding after him wherever he was going to.

Most of the wizard's friends seemed to be dabblers in arcane, more or less, although none quite shared his dedication to it. And one of the most peculiar ones managed to by accident change Rysk's life completely...

There Is Change in the Air

All was fine and dandy, and Rysk was lazing above a fireplace in its warmth. Van and Gorfnar were having their usual debates over whatever arcane subject was the theme of their day right then.

Rysk lifted her head, the men were casting something, but that wasn't what had caught her attention – there was a mouse in the house. She rose up, stretching, and spotted the critter – in the instant leaping after it. She miscalculated the leap somewhat though and ended up skidding across a dinner table, the table cloth more a hindrance to her than any help to stopping the slide. The next moment she was tumbling over the table's edge and right onto lap of Gorfnar while he was finishing up his magickings. And that was when the unthinkable happened.

It was a peculiar moment, a moment of confusion and clarity at the exact same time, as if she was both drunk to the boot and completely sober, hallucinating and yet seeing everything clearer than ever. The room spun... everything went black... and then she realized that she was fighting with table cloth with which she had managed to entangle herself. She was rather happy when the two men helped her from the embarrassing constraints.

• “Thank you”, she huffed, although to ears of the bipeds it sounded more like quiet meow.

Or so it would have, if the two had been any Joe Averages from the streets.

• “Did she just...?”, begun Gorfnar, glancing to Van.
• “Sure did...”, was the reply from the elven wizard.

Rysk wondered a moment what she might've done this time, aside cleaning up the table. She didn't wonder for long though, the pesky mouse squeaked nearby and she was on prowl right there and then...

And Then...

It took a while for Van and his druidic friend, Gorfnar, to come realize that what they observed about Rysk wasn't some outside prank and illusion. She had always been a smart kitty, but just how smart she was now – clearly a genius, even by human standards, that much was clear when she begun mimicking minor spell casting and to actually read the arcane books aside Van instead of just watching the pretty pictures.

Aside her intelligence, not much else had changed however – she was otherwise as much a cat as she had always been. With intelligence augmented beyond norms she in an instant became a true menace to the local vermin, for example in tracking and trapping them. Not that she ever ate any of them however, they were just a sport for her to capture and get rid of. She became sort of menace otherwise, too, snooping around more curious than ever – simple locks couldn't hold her from finding about some (for her exciting) secret. Stray dogs left her alone ever since Rysk webbed one of them and gave it a “shaving” with a little acidic cantrip.

Cat burglar redefined...

During a nightly prowl Rysk came upon a nice smelling shop, which was by then closed however. Following the scent she climbed up a little tree aside the shop, leaping indoors from an open window at upstairs. She didn't hear anything alarming nor smell any guard dogs – those things were pesky.

She padded softly across the floor of something what seemed like a bedroom, and by sound the master of the house was sound asleep. The heavy door of the room took a while to open, but finally she got it pawed enough to let her pass. The coast was clear, so to say, and she padded down a corridor and then stairs, coming to the side of shop itself.

Meats, milk and cream, aside various bakery – now, that was a treasure! Problem with milk though was that the containers were rather tightly shut, even humans had at times problems opening them. For a while she tried a bit of this and that, frustration growing steadily... But then she noticed a bit of light rope, or what they called it – thing to wrap packages with. A little bit of tinkering and she got a knot around handle of one of the (for her) massive canisters. She hopped down and pushed couple stool ladders aside the canister, fetching then a broom, setting it lay atop the stools... and then grabbed the robe in her teeth and pulled with all her strength and weight. And a moment later the metal lid of the canister rose loose, surprisingly fast, too, and was sent clattering on the floor with awful racket.

The noise woke up the shop's owner, and any louder would've woken the neighbors too. Rysk leaped onto a stool, lapping a few sips of the milk, leaping into hide just before the man rushed into the shop, shouting something about “thieves”. Cattily snickering Rysk watched the huffing and puffing man who now stood there dumbfounded, staring the open milk canister.

• “What the heck?”, he boggled, a glance telling him with ease that there was no one else than him in the shop.

Â… the man close the canister, checking then the locks and windows. Meanwhile Rysk nabbed couple sausages and padded upstairs, leaving the route she had initially arrived.

Double the Mischief

As if one smart cat wasn't trouble enough, Mirre, another female from the same litter Rysk was born with joined with her soon. Thankfully, at least from the bipeds' point of view, Mirre wasn't an equal genius, altho still smarter than some humans anyway...

Rysk, Penni, and Mirre


--"The dynamic trio."

Waiting...

• "There's things worth waiting...", mused Rysk while sitting atop a small abode's window, "...I wonder what'll we be reading this eve with Van. New tomes of arcane? Funny tales of old, or 'fairytales', like he calls them? Hmhmm, will see then..."

- "Brux's fun!", Rysk thought while playing around in the undergrowth, "But, who's behind me...?", she then wondered and peered back.