Author Games: Dawn of Nameless Desires

CHAMPION OF MIRRYMDYR: Korza Anorfir - @zer0fly

Name: Korza Anorfir

Age: 27

Race: Tabaxi (ta-BÆK-see)

Subrace: Bobcat

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Personality: Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. It's ironic to note that Korza hates that particular phrase with a passion, yet nothing describes him better. Actually, scratch that. He hates any saying that deals with cats. It doesn't stop him from using them at any opportunity, though. He also sticks his nose into anything, especially if it's deemed "off limits". Nothing is really off limits, that's just a pair of words. A lock, on the otherpaw... now, that's a test of worthiness. A challenge. It's like saying Try me! Who is he to ignore it? Korza's a smooth-talking flirt with a tongue of pure silver and whip-quick wits. It doesn't matter the race, gender, ally or enemy, as long as they have no interest in him whatsoever he's shooting his shot. It's an empty shot, sure, he's not nearly interested enough in all that to be serious, but the fun reactions he gets keep him shooting anyway. He'll talk you into circles if you let him, but that's mostly because he finds himself funny. He's also overly competitive, constantly chasing the adrenaline rush of a good challenge or a good joke, practical or otherwise. Korza likes a challenge, but he does not take risks. He doesn't step too far outside his comfort zone and he is a firm believer in "every cat for himself". Maybe that makes him a coward, but he's still alive and kicking, isn't he? (And if, deep down inside his soul, he wishes he was more brave, more noble, more stable, less pathetic, well. No one else has to know.)

Appearance: As with most tabaxi, the first thing people notice are the ears. Korza has two large ones, black fur covering the outer shell, and a tuft at the tips with two loops of silver pierced through the left. They flick and swivel, rarely holding still. The next thing they notice is the fur. His white fur is thick in the winter months and turns sandy and thin in the summer months, the black spots and half-stripes blending in to rock formations. He has a ruff around his neck, two strands of which he keeps braided. They're held with a stretchy leather loop. His muzzle is short and compact, like all cats' are, and when he smiles, a sliver of pearly white fangs poke free. More often than not, his muzzle is twisted in a deceptively charming roguish grin. His amber eyes have a lick of green to them and are normally split with a wide pupil, but at the smell of blood, exposure to bright light, etcetera, they contract into typical feline slits. They shine with a mischievous light, too, like he is permanently laughing. His body is lithe and flexible, packed with lean muscle, with a short bob of a tail that has a ring of black on the tip. Some might call his little tail cute. He'll ask you how cute his claws feel if he hears that. Korza wears light leather armor full of hidden and exposed pockets and a double baldric across his chest, as well as a belt around his waist that holds his knives and pouches for his stolen treasures. A cloak of red normally sits over his shoulders, when he does not need to hide.

Brief Backstory: Not quite as social as some other cats but also not quite as isolated, bobcat tabaxi have taken to the smaller family units that consist of a mated pair and their adolescence offspring the humans are so fond of. Korza grew up on the more remote fringes of Mirrimdyr, in the jagged mountain ranges and the thick pine forests at their base, with his parents and two sisters until he was old enough to leave his parents' territory in search of his own. The first few years of independence, he kept to the shadows and followed the trader caravans that travelled close to the narrowly neutral strips of land between kingdoms. From them, he learned the ways of the thief, how to pick pockets and locks, and the art of moving in plain sight unseen. The caravan never was aware of their feline pupil, so if their sales books were a few baubles under... Fortunately for the bookkeeper, Korza can keep a secret. The lone tabaxi never did claim a spot of land for himself, and instead took to wandering from place to place, caravan to caravan, party to party, and even the circus once. His name changed several times throughout his travels, but the one thing that remained constant was this: wherever Korza went, someone was bound to lose something.

Weapons/Skills: Smaller, swifter knives seem to understand Korza the best and so those are the types of blades he equips himself with. Korza is decent with a broadsword and proficient with daggers, throwing knives, and an assortment of tools he uses to get into things and rooms most people don't want him getting into. If they did, they wouldn't leave a fun lock for Korza to pick. He can also hunt, using a low power hunting bow he made himself under his mother's guidance. Korza is a pickpocket, and a damn good one at that. Retractable claws and fluffy paws make a dangerous combination for your pockets. He's an actor, shifting from identity to identity smoothly, and could tell a million lies to your face without so much as a twitch, all while never losing sight of the truth. The best falsehoods, after all, stem from a tiny seed of truth.

Something Interesting: Korza has no interest in taking a mate and settling down to have kittens, but maybe if someone came along willing to travel with him, to become a two-cat operation instead of running solo... maybe, just maybe, he'd like that.

Task Zero:

The door to their home shuts behind Korza's father and the snow-laden forest falls silent. Korza surveys the clearing dotted with targets, their red painted circles full of knives and arrows. Hanging on a hook outside the meat shack is a young buck, ready to be skinned, and just past the final ring of heavily clawed pine trees some two hundred paces away is the copse of spruces he had hid from his sister in for the better part of yesterday. He completed all of his tests with flying colors, he knows as much, but a small tendril of anxiety, fluttering and cold, still curls low in his belly. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, tells himself he did good, practically perfect even, and steels himself to wait for the results. There is no way he won't pass.

But what if he doesn't? Korza can't shake the lingering doubt. He never had the bad habit of chewing on his claws like his youngest sister did, but right now he really wants to.

The bobcat ends up tucking his paws beneath his arms and pacing, ears and tail twitching. Every wooden creak from the house has his head whipping around and every time the door stays stubbornly closed. His legs ache. Maybe he should stop pacing and sit down. Korza glances to the chairs on the front porch and shudders. He's too keyed up to think about sitting.

He could run away, Korza considers with a thoughtful tilt of his head. He shakes away the idea as soon as it arrives. Nothing good would come out of that.

As if hearing his resolve hardening, the door swings open and out steps Korza's family. Korza drops his paws and stands up straighter, ears pricked forward. His mother and sisters face him, faces revealing nothing, while his father steps up to him, equally as blank. They stare at each other for a long moment. Then, his father gives him a small smile and nods.

"You passed."

Korza sags as his family surges forward, wrapping him up in hugs, congratulations, and plans for celebrations. They press their fur to his when his father presents Korza with something wrapped in red fabric. Korza takes it, looking up at his father in question.

"A cloak," his father says, nodding at the bundle, "and your own set of daggers."

Korza inhales, unfurling the cloak to reveal a gorgeously new pair of blades. He might cry.

"Let's get that buck skinned and frying!" his mother shouts and bounds towards the meat shack, his sister whooping behind her.

Korza grins after them, eyes shining, when his father's warm paw falls on his shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, son."

His father walks away to help with the cooking and Korza sniffs. He can't stop his tears from falling but he doesn't even try to, just plasters a shaky smile on his muzzle and hops headfirst into the happy chaos of celebration after him.

He passed!