Story
I watched her crouch in the firelight, her tail flicking back and forth like a metronome of impatience. She said nothing to me, only reached into a gourd of paint and smeared black paint over her body. She saved her face for last, her muscles rippling as she worked the paint in. The marks turned her lean frame into something otherworldly.
"She wears the panther tonight," whispered my guide, though I hadn't asked.
She lifted her knife, its edge chipped but sharp, and licked the blade once before vanishing into the trees. Not a twig snapped, not a leaf stirred. Only the silence of Montosho remained, heavy and watchful.
Hours passed. The jungle hummed and bit and coiled around me. I dozed and woke and dozed again until a shape slid back into the circle of firelight.
It was her. Her paint smeared now with crimson, her knife wet, her mouth stained red. In one hand she carried something dark and dripping. She bit into it like fruit.
"The camp," she said, her voice flat, unbothered, "is gone."
Nothing more. She sat cross-legged, chewing slowly, her eyes on the flames. The heart gleamed in her hands, and Montosho itself seemed to shiver in approval.

On the ragged fringes of Montosho dwell the Catlings, a people who resemble humans but bear the ears, tails and wild grace of great cats. Their lives are as fluid as shadows, shifting from one hunting ground to the next, one loose band to another.

Way of Life

Catlings do not build villages in the way of other peoples. Instead, they sleep in nests of woven reeds or high in tree branches, moving as they please. A Catling may live with kin one season, a band of hunters the next, or alone in the deep jungle for years. Bonds are personal, never communal. A quarrel over food, pride, or lovers is enough for one to vanish into the trees, never to return. This lack of structure baffles outsiders, who mistake it for weakness, but it is simply their way.

Catlings are hunters above all else. They read the jungle as others read a scroll, seeing every broken twig, every half-hidden track, every movement of leaves. Their prey ranges from monkeys and boars to far larger beasts, even stray Boons. Because of this skill, the Empire hires them as guides, though Catlings often lead their employers into danger as much as out of it, depending on their mood or loyalties.

Faith of the Cat Spirits

Catlings honor the spirits of the great cats that prowl Montosho. They believe each hunt is a communion, each kill a prayer. Before a hunt or battle they paint their entire bodies in patterns resembling the big cats, to channel the strength of a chosen spirit, for example:

• Panther: silence and stealth, full body black paint.
• Tiger: raw fury, tiger stripes.
• Cheetah: swiftness, spotted paint.
• Leopard: cunning strikes, spots.

They believe the spirit acts through them, guiding their hands, sharpening their senses, and lending them its nature until the hunt is done.

Catlings wear little or no clothes, believing that it hinders the connection to the spirits.

Trophies and Blood

To kill an enemy is not only victory but a chance for strength. Catlings consume the heart of a foe, believing it grants them part of the slain's essence. Lesser trophies are also carried: necklaces strung with teeth, claws, finger bones, or locks of hair. Each trinket tells a story of a hunt, a kill, a triumph.

Warfare

A Catling fight is over before the victim knows it has begun. They stalk unseen, pounce without warning, and strike with knives as sharp as fangs. No war cries, no challenge, only sudden death. Often they vanish into the vines before the body even falls. Bands of Catlings, fighting as one, are said to move with the precision of a hunting pride, slashing and fading in waves until the enemy breaks.

Names and Notables

Catling names are short, feline, often ending in sharp sounds: Sahra, Jikkar, Velra, Tarrin, Kessha. Outsiders rarely hear more than one, as Catlings change names as easily as they change groups.

A few among them are whispered of even by the Empire:

• Velra the Red-Tooth, who wears a necklace of human hearts dried to black stone.
• Kessha of the Five Stripes, said to have once killed an Imperial officer and his four guards in a single heartbeat.
• Old Marru, a guide who has led dozens of expeditions into Montosho, never losing a man.

The Empire and the Catlings

To the Great Empire, Catlings are both asset and nuisance. They are among the finest hunters in Montosho, their senses sharper than hounds, their steps lighter than scouts. Imperial officers see them as useful tools, yet never fully trustworthy.

Guides and Trackers

Catlings are often hired to guide expeditions into the jungle. They can slip through vines and swamps where Imperial troops would founder, and they can find water or prey in places that seem lifeless. For every expedition that returns safely, however, another vanishes without trace. Some officers believe the Catlings lead them astray on purpose, steering men into snake pits, wasp swarms, or worse. Others argue it is simply Montosho itself that devours expeditions. Possibly, the Catling just gets annoyed and walks off.

Slaves and Curiosities

Catlings are also prized as slaves. Their exotic appearance and feline grace make them popular in the arenas and courts of the Empire. Gladiators painted in cat-spirit markings are a common sight in the larger cities, where crowds cheer their quickness and savagery. Wealthy households sometimes keep Catlings as "pets".

Distrusted Allies

In the trade stations, Catlings move between roles: hunters, trappers, guards, informants. They sell their skills for metal knives, salt, or brightly colored cloth, but never for long. A Catling might fight for the Empire one season and raid its outposts the next. Imperial governors constantly debate whether to suppress or cultivate them, yet no station dares ban them entirely, for without Catling guides the jungle itself closes in.

Imperial Names for Catlings

The Empire rarely uses "Catlings." They call them Bestiae, lumping them together with other part-human peoples, or sometimes Jungle Tails, a term half-derisive, half-fascinated. Among soldiers, the most common phrase is simply Whiskers, though no Catling tolerates the insult without bloodshed.

Boons and the Catlings

Boons and Catlings are ancient enemies. Boons see any intruders as vermin to be crushed, while Catlings view Boons as lumbering prey. When they meet, there is no parley. Catlings strike from the trees with speed and precision, while Boons answer with brute strength and numbers. Each encounter is a contest of ambush against endurance, and rarely do both sides walk away.

Possible Secrets

The True Hunt

Catling shamans claim that each Catling is shadowed by a spirit-cat that follows them unseen. When a Catling dies, the spirit devours their soul and carries it into Montosho's roots.

The Painted Gods

The body paints they use are said to come from sacred groves where the sap bleeds in the colors of the great cats.

The Devourer's Gift

Eating the heart of a powerful foe can sometimes awaken something in a Catling, a moment of pure instinct when the hunter becomes the hunted and no longer knows which is which.

The Lost Queen

There are tales of a Catling queen who once united the clans and nearly drove the Empire out. She vanished mid-battle, leaving only claw marks burned into stone.

The Moon's Children

Old hunters whisper that Catlings born under a blood moon are different, they have eyes that reflect even in daylight and can walk unseen by Boons. Many of these vanish into the jungle and never return.

The Silent Purr

There are times at night when Catlings hear a deep, rolling purr through the trees. They say it is the voice of the first cat-spirit, reminding them that Montosho still watches. Others believe it's the warning before a great hunt.

The Debt of Blood

Some elders believe the Catlings' gift from the spirits is not a blessing but a bargain, one day Montosho will call them all back, and they will walk on four legs again, forgetting speech forever.

Adventure Hooks

The Guide's Price

The party needs a Catling guide to reach a hidden ruin deep in Montosho. Few are willing, and the one who accepts demands a strange payment - not gold, but a promise to kill someone she names when the journey is done.

The Stolen Hunt

An Imperial officer's hunting party trespasses into Catling territory and slaughters a sacred predator. The Catlings demand blood payment. The party is caught in the middle of the standoff before it becomes open war.

The Painted Blade

A Catling assassin, famed for her body paint of black and crimson, is targeting Imperial officials. The governor hires the party to stop her - but she offers them a better price to turn on him instead.

The Missing Guide

The party's Catling guide vanishes during the night, leaving strange tracks that lead into Boon territory. The Empire wants her found, alive or dead. The Catlings warn that following will anger the spirits.

The Slaver's Mistake

An Imperial slaver captures a group of Catlings for the arenas, but one escapes. The escapee begs the party for help freeing the others before they're shipped to the coast.

The Painted Dead

An Imperial patrol is found slaughtered, their faces painted in Catling hunting patterns. The Empire blames a Catling tribe and plans reprisal. The party must uncover who really did it, before the massacre begins.

The Debt Unpaid

A Catling once saved the life of an Imperial officer. Now his descendants must honor that debt. They hire the party to deliver tribute into Montosho itself, where no Imperial has ever returned.

The False Spirit

A Catling shaman is gaining power by claiming she can speak directly with the great cat-spirits. The party is asked to expose her fraud, or prove that the spirits truly do answer.

The Last Stripe

A dying Catling warrior asks the party to paint her in the pattern of the tiger spirit so she may die with honor. Her enemies are closing in, time is running short.

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