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‘I ASK MEW TO CAST everything mew know about me to one side. For now, I ask mew to listen to the tale I’m about to tell,’ Mitztail said softly, holding his lute between his paws and plucked at the strings. ‘Sit down friends and be merry in one another’s company.’
Barcius glanced back at me, shaking his head in disbelief. I shrugged and perched on the edge of a crate. Tarasque didn’t so much as budge from her spot, but her golden eyes stayed trained on our comrade. None of us was sure as to what was unfolding before us, but we owed it to our friend to listen to his tale.
As Mitztail strummed on his lute, a familiar purple haze smoked around him and small kitten-like wisps danced upon the rhythm. The low hum of the strings echoed through the street. What was once a dimly lit area, was now coated in a faint purplish hue. From the smoke morphed several feline-like figures; a family made up of a single mother with three young kittens. The tallest and most notable was a younger-looking Mitztail, his fur sticking on end and dressed in shabby clothes. Polar opposite to how I’d grown accustomed to him dressing. Either side of him stood twin female tabaxis, all dressed in simple day dresses with ribbons tied in their ginger fur.
‘I was born the eldest of five, my mother raised us alone after my father passed away due to illness. We lived a life of poverty, we’d no coin to pay for his treatment. So my mother raised our litter, alone. She took any small job she was given just to provide us with a single meal a day. She never once saw us without,’ Mitztail said, his tone stayed soft despite the horror in his words that spilled from his lips. The gentleness of his strumming married with his tale. ‘As the eldest it fell to me to take care of my youngest sisters. I ensured their safety when my mother worked, I tended to our small cropland and sold what I could at the market. But my favourite time of the day was weaving tales for my younger siblings about daring adventurers, crusaders and pirates, all the hopes and dreams I wished for myself. I always wished for a better life, wishing I could produce enough coin so we could live a comfortable life, but a tabaxi like me seldom gets the chance.’
‘My mother always held big dreams for me, she was the one who gave me this lute. She hoped I would one day venture far from our hometown and forward into the dazzling cities to make a name for myself. She appreciated how I cared for my siblings and would often listen in when I sang them their bedtime lullabies. She pushed me to leave home one fateful day, with nothing but my lute on my back, a pack of provisions and dressed in my best clothes.’ He continued his tale, yet paused for a moment and plucked at the strings a little more coarse. The smoke shifted, erasing the image.
‘For the best, she claimed,’ he chuckled, pulling the brim of his hardee to the tip of his nose. He shied away from us, and I swore I saw a tear fall from his eyes.
‘I set out that day, in hopes to make true to my promise. I was to be a star, the greatest tabaxi bard whoever walked this earth. Such a fool I was to even consider it to be a possibility. A tabaxi like me shouldn’t stray too far from home. That’s what they told me.’
Barcius shifted in his spot, fighting the urge to speak, but in his own classic fashion, didn’t hold his tongue. ‘While I respect you, Mitztail, can you get on with it?’
The tabaxi’s strumming halted, his little paw twitched. Mitztail lifted his head and shot the tiefling a glare, yet a smile sat on his lips. A chill ran down my spine. ‘Listen to my tale, friend.’
Barcius glanced at me, suggesting the tabaxi was in the wrong, but I shook my head, disagreeing. We owed it to our comrade to listen to his tale, yet the tiefling seemed unwilling to honour him. He huffed and made a gesture to suggest he was locking his lips.
Mitztail continued his story, his paws strummed away at the strings once more, ‘I made my way to the big city, Celestria. We stand in the skeleton of what remains of that city, the true nature of empty dreams. For I came with a big promise, yet I fell at every turn. I’d hope to earn enough coin to send home to my family. I wanted my mother to quit and enjoy her last few years, but she worked herself to the bone supporting my sisters. I learnt of her ill fate before and my heart broke.’ He paused, quietly playing a rift on the lute to fill the silence without his words. ‘My poor sisters. How alone they must have felt, and yet I selfishly choose my own dreams over their happiness. What do I have to show for it, mew might be wondering.’ He chuckled once more.
‘I travelled around this city, playing my songs for every tavern as far as the eye could see. I was paid handsomely for my ballads, I’d never seen so much coin in my life. My hopes for sending my wages to my family became a second priority. Growing up I was starved of too many opportunities. So, I didn’t dare let them slip through my paws,’ Mitztail said. ‘The finest silk garments from the grandest of tailors, bottomless feasts and mead every night, for me and the company I kept. The coin didn’t sit for long in my purse, and that is where my problems lie. I sent very little to my family, never keeping a single piece for a rainy day, and when news of my mother’s passing reached me in Celestria, my inspiration ran dry. My mind was a barren desert, yet once was an oasis of promise. I continued my appearances, but my music grew stale. Taverns stopped hiring me to play, the company I chose to keep left, and I ended up basking on the streets, begging for coin.’
‘And that’s when they found me,’ the tempo of his strumming shifted, a dark melody played.
The purple smoke around him shifted once more, showing the Mitztail I’d come to know, strumming away on his loot much as he was standing before me. A coin purse sat at his feet with a number of copper pieces. No one person who walked by gave him the time of day, they merely scoffed at his performance and walked in the other direction. Until another tabaxi came into view, staring up at the bard with eyes like saucers. She caught Mitztail’s eye and it was easy to see why. Her silky cream and brown fur, like a siamese and emerald eyes. He stumbled on his words, focusing more on her features than the song he was playing. But his happiness changed instantly into sadness. A second tabaxi appeared, hidden under a dark cloak except their tail trailing behind them, and swiped the coin purse from under Mitztail’s nose. The siamese fluttered her eyelashes and disappeared into the night, leaving the bard with no coin to fend for himself. The image vanished leaving a soft haze around the street once more.
‘I spent months on the street, without a single interaction, yet the day those two vagabonds found me might have been the second happiest day of my life,’ he said. ‘That seductress siamese played with my heartstrings while her companion made off with my coin purse. I took too long to realise my blunder, yet I hurried after them when realised. I found them hiding under the nearby bridge, counting the wares they’d stolen. I called them out, and asked for the safe return of my purse, yet they offered me a better deal, one I simply couldn’t refuse,’ Mitztail said, his melody returned gentle. ‘That night I joined the band of thieves and together we dubbed ourselves the Whiskerteers. We worked around the clock, day and night, it didn’t matter, to con people of their jewellery and coin. Merry Beauty, the siamese temptress, lured unsuspecting victims into our traps, while Hawk Feather robbed them blind. I, however, being the humble bard I am, was the distraction and front of our operation. Who doesn’t love a come back tale? My name used to mean something in Celestria, and with their help it was again once more.’
The tabaxi sighed. He must have felt the weight of our judgement on his shoulders, yet we didn’t dare utter our thoughts. Tarasque kept her golden eyes trained to the stone street, her lips pursed shut. His melody continued to fill the silence.
I rummaged in my pack and produced the wanted poster I’d stolen from the tavern and asked, ‘Something must have happened to you three, you were caught thieving? I found this, who wanted your blood?’
Mitztail grimaced, ‘Now that's what I will reveal to mew. Our schemes were working wonders, we’d never seen so much coin. It wasn’t as much as I was performing in taverns but with every piece I earnt, I sent it all to my sisters. I hoped that with the little I could offer, they would finally live a better life. Of course, I never once told them my stories; not my life on the street, nor my ragband of vagabonds. I wanted them to be proud of me, even if I was living a lie. They could never learn the truth.’ He took a breath. ‘To this day they still have no idea of my lifestyle. They still believe I’m the greatest bard in all of Celestria and I intend to take that secret to my grave.’
The tabaxi altered the tempo of his melody, the purple haze rose once more. Three feline figures sat huddled over a piece of parchment, discussing what looked to be an action plan. A high priority target or a heist, I couldn’t be sure.
‘As the Whiskerteers, we only wished to make a name for ourselves but what drove us into that mindset also caused our downfall. We were fools, our successful mini schemes were nothing in comparison to what we were planning, yet we believed we were above the law,’ he said with a sigh. ‘We gathered intel after hearing a group of nobles were heading to Celestria just to see the Whiskerteers perform. The coin we made from tickets alone would have been more than enough to live on comfortably, but we grew greedy and hungered for more. It took months of planning and preparation for this big event. Merry practised her dance routines a thousand times over, and Hawk found use for his love of pyrotechnics. I considered writing a new ballad for the performance, but my creative well still ran dry. Instead, I opted for the songs that made my sisters smile and one of their favourite lullabies.’
The purple haze shifted again, illustrating the scene of the three tabaxis putting the final touches on their plan. Mitztail used his same purple smog to create dozens of little lanterns and strung them into the tent rafters. They glowed like tiny fireflies.
In the centre, Merry stretched her long limbs before twirling around with chakrams in her paws. An elegant yet exotic dance routine that was beautiful and alluring to watch. I caught sight of the younger Mitztail watching her every move as he worked. His cheeks warm and his eyes transfixed on her every movement, like he couldn’t bear for her to be out of his sight.
Hawk was lurking about, fixing last minute props for the performance. The decorations were simple, handcrafted using any scraps they could gather but were still effective in their purpose.
Everything seemed to be going perfectly ahead of time, yet I could feel it in my gut that this tale wasn't going to have a happy ending. If it had, Mitztail may have never met the Ashen Order.
Mitztail adjusted the position of his paws resting on the lute, a sweet melody played, one filled with joy and promise. As he strummed the haze followed, bending to his will, through nothing but song.
'And so, night befell the City of Celestria, the moon high in the sky like a beacon, welcoming citizens from far and wide to witness our spectacle,' the tabaxi said, smiling with hope.
The same promise he must have felt that fateful day.
‘They came from far and in numbers did they come to watch our performance. Eyes wide like saucers, with amazement and bewilderment, like they’d never seen something so fantastical as we three Whiskerteers. We announced our name, roaring it loud out into the rafters, proud were we to stand before such a crowd. I played my lute, accompanying Merry’s dancing while Hawk worked the crowd, grabbing jewellery and coin purses. We stowed them in plain sight, in the scenery itself, acting as if it was all part of routine. No one suspected our trickery.’ Mitztail purred. His magic created a visual companion to his story. ‘And our night ended without so much as a hitch. We gathered ourselves and high tailed it into the outskirts of the city unaware the nobleman’s personal guard had been watching us the entire time. He was aware of our thievery and demanded we return every coin piece. Together we stood our ground. But the second he laid a hand on Merry, we brothers saw red and the man didn’t wake when we were through.’
‘Her scream pierced through my ears, a blood-curdling noise, when she saw the blood on our paws. She was inconsolable, refusing to speak to us both for several days. But it was a few weeks after we thought we were safe, that we realised how much trouble we were truly in. We spied those same wanted posters throughout the city, claiming all manner of wicked deeds, yet very few held weight. I didn’t seduce a noblewoman, nor did I force myself on one either. A month later and soldiers began hunting us down like beasts and in sizable packs too. What we considered an easy victory was just the beginning of our horror story unfolding.’ Mitztail said.
The tone of his melody shifted, as did the smog once more. Dozens of soldiers circled the Whiskerteers. Mitztail stood, his lute strapped to his back with his tiny paws around Merry and faithful Hawk by his side, hood drawn and knives ready to pounce.
‘We took our last stand. We didn’t care about the outcome. We made a pact, us Whiskerteers, together we stand, together we shall fall. But when we made that pact we weren't aware that fate, cruel and twisted as she may be, would’ve us that night. They didn’t care much for us males, they wanted Merry. Poor sweet Merry. She dreamt of moving far away from the City of Celestria and beginning life anew somewhere quiet. She never did get to see that dream fulfilled. In the struggle between the noblewoman’s guards and us tabaxi’s, Merry fell, slain in the struggle to prevent her imprisonment.’ Mitztail took a breath, his melody turned from violent to a sombre rhythm.
Beside him a wispy figure appeared, a slender siamese tabaxi and loving pulled down his hardee brim to his nose.
‘Thank you, my dear. It’s a terrible evening for rain,’ he said, the tone of his voice almost trembling. Yet he addressed the figment of his past, keeping the image of his lost love close by always. ‘I held Merry as she passed over into the next realm, unable to leave her. Yet my brother in arms, Hawk, fought against the soldiers alone, bidding me precious time to escape. In that moment I had one choice to make; honour my code and die like a man alongside my comrades or run like the scared coward I’d always been.’
No one spoke for some time, we all listened to the sombre melody as little kitten-like wisps danced at our feet. Just as predicted, the night skies opened up, the deluge began, yet none of us moved an inch from our spots. We stayed rooted in position, waiting to hear the end of Mitztail’s tale.
‘I ran as fast as my little paws could carry me. Deep into the worse parts of the cities, surrounded by all manner of creatures. But I saw myself no better than any of them. A thief, a murderer, and worse of all a betrayer. Weeks later, I heard word, my dear sweet Merry was buried in an unmarked grave somewhere on the city outskirts by some of our admirers. I visited her as often as I could without being caught. But Hawk’s fate was the worst of all, to this day he remains imprisoned by the noblewoman’s guards until he rots. Yet, I am the one who walks free. The coward.’
‘Years passed and yet I still carried the same shame I brought my fallen comrades. I found myself back on those same city streets I once walked beside my friends. Not once did I pick up my lute, or chant a silly jingle to myself. My creative oasis no longer existed and my fight with life was dwindling.’ Mitztail explained, even the breath in his lungs seemed to tire. ‘I continued my life of thievery, trying to scrap what little I could to continue payments to my sisters. But one day, it seemed I pickpocketed the wrong woman. A fire genasi paladin caught my paws pinching her coin purse and threw me to the floor quicker than I could apologise. She was accompanied of course by a charming elven woman in white robes and an obnoxious blue-skinned tiefling. She gave me two options; continue my life as a street cat begging for scraps or to join her merry band of adventurers and make a true name for myself. It was that fateful day I met with the Ashen Order, a day I shall always be thankful for. A day I never wish to forget for as long as I might live. I might have set out from my hometown riding on the back of a promise to my family and a dream in my heart. But the day I lost my true love, Merry, my heart truly broke. I have never been the great bard I once was, but I am happy in the company of those I am proud to call my friends. Even you, Saria.’ Mitztail’s melody concluded and his purple haze dissipated, leaving us alone with the moonlight sentinel in the night sky.
‘And thus ends the Ballad of the Whiskerteers.’
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