Moon: Goat
Date: 12th of Reedwryme.
Day: Frisk
Weather: Driving Rain

At the House of Harridwn Inn.

Anna shook the rain from her cloak, still carrying the scent of moss and mischief from the day’s wanderings. Sadie pressed close to her leg, ears drooping, unimpressed by the storm or the strange new company.

Jascqueline
“Well now. The woods send interesting company on nights like this. And a Griffon Hound, no less! Tell me, darling, does your shaggy beast bark in B-flat? I’ve been looking for a percussionist, and the service in this establishment is dreadfully silent”

Sadie froze, staring.

Jascqueline winked.

Sadie plants her bottom on the floorboards with the solemnity of a stone idol. Ears stiff. Eyes fixed. A single, unwavering stare at the impossible creature addressing her.

Jascqueline pauses mid‑circle, tail flicking in amusement.

“Oh! She sits. She sits. Look at that posture — regal, unyielding, utterly unimpressed. A true hound of noble blood never rises for anything less than destiny or dinner.”

She leans down, bringing her face level with Sadie’s, whiskers twitching.

“You’re staring at me as though I’ve personally offended your ancestors. Darling, I assure you, I’ve only offended half of them.”

Sadie does not blink.

Anna, dripping steadily onto the floor,pushes a wet curl out of her face, still staring at Jascqueline as though the world has tilted sideways.

“I… I’m sorry, you’re… a cat. Talking. And judging my hoodie.”

Jascqueline gasps, delighted. “Darling, I’m not judging. I’m observing. There’s a difference. One is rude, the other is research.”

Sadie does not move. Does not blink. The universe has presented her with a paradox, and she refuses to engage until it makes sense.

Jascqueline gestures grandly toward the hearth. “Come, both of you. Sit. Dry yourselves. Explain everything. I feel a story clawing at the door.”

From the doorway to the kitchen, Mallowyn and Trellayde Occland emerge, drawn by the unusual combination of a soaked outsider, a fae-touched hound, and a Grimalkin bard in full storytelling mode. The sisters exchange a glance—a silent conversation honed by years of running the inn together. Mallowyn, the elder, wipes her hands on her apron, while Trellayde, always quick with a smile, leans in with friendly curiosity.

Mallowyn’s voice is gentle but direct:
“Not many folk walk in out of a storm and know a Tailwhisker by name. How did you come by such company, love?”

Trellayde’s eyes twinkle as she adds,
“And not many travellers arrive with a hound like yours, either. That’s a story we’d love to hear, if you’re willing.”

Their curiosity is genuine, tinged with the kind of wonder that comes from living in a place where secrets and stories are currency. The sisters are not suspicious, but intrigued—eager to learn how Anna, an outsider, has found herself in the company of a bard whose name is woven through the inn’s own history.

 Jascqueline plucks a string and start to sing. Anna, dripping, tired, and trying to look like she belongs in a place where the shadows have opinions.

“Could I… get a coffee?” she asks, hopeful.

Mallowyn and Trellayde exchange a look — the kind innkeepers give each other when a guest has said something deeply revealing.

“Coffee, love?” Trellayde says gently. “We’ve got chicory brew, mushroom tisane, and a very respectable nettle infusion. But coffee… no.”

Jascqueline, delighted, leans in. “Oh, she’s exotic. I knew it.”

Sadie, still processing the talking cat, shifts only enough to sniff the air suspiciously.

Anna opens her grandmother’s journal.

Oracle Question. Is there an entry in the journal about the Inn? Yes.

She flips through the pages, fingers still cold, and finds an entry:

“The sisters at the Harridwn serve a decent pottage, but the shadows have a habit of moving when you aren’t looking. If you lose something here, don’t look under the beds — just ask the cats politely. They usually know where the ‘lost’ things go.”

Anna reads it twice.
Then glances at Jasc.
Then at the shadows.
Then at Sadie, who is staring at a patch of floorboards as though it might blink.
Mallowyn sets down a steaming mug of chicory brew, “there you are love, I will put it on your tab.”
Trellayde sets a bowl down beside Sadie, “and water for the sweetie here.”

And then it drops out of her grandmothers journal and onto the able. The sketch with a note.
The pages tremble in her hands as the storm rattles the shutters. There in faded ink and curling edges, a sketch–a violet furred cat with a snub nose and eyes like twin moons. Benith a note “If you meet the Tailwhisker girl, tell her she owes me a silk ribbon.”
Anna looks up, her breath catching as Jascqueline violet fur gleams in the candlelight. “Tailwhisker…” Anna wispers.
Jascqueline freezes mid song, ears twitching like harp strings. Her grin faulters replaced by something sharper.
Anna, eyes wide in surprise, sit up straighter, shoulders tense with astonishment and disbelief, “My grandmother wrote this. She says… you owe her a silk ribbon?”

Jascqueline leans forward, her eyes narrowing as she inspects the handwriting.
She gives a theatrical, dramatic sigh, her tail witching in a series of elegant loops. “A silk ribbon? Heavens… Rose-Mary’s granddaughter. I haven’t thought of that ribbon in 50 winters. It was sky blue if I recall, and I used it to tie back my whiskers during a particularly windy performance in Prigwart.”
Jascqueline leans closer to Anna, her tone softens “well, small Rose, if your Grandmother sent you with this message… then you have stepped into a story older than you know.”

Sadie thumps her tail against the floor as if to punctuate the moment.

“Well, ‘Small-Rose.’ Since I cannot return the ribbon to the grandmother, I suppose I must pay the the interest to the child. It seems I am officially at your service –at least until we find something to settle the score.”

Anna blinks, unsure whether to laugh or bow.
Sadie thumps her tail once, solemn as a judge.

The Occland sisters exchange a knowing look.
A Tailwhisker in debt is a dangerous blessing.

And just like that, the trio is formed — not by prophecy, but by a ribbon, a storm, and a grandmother’s scribbled note.

Appendix

Sadies “Stubbonness Table”

Roll (d6)	Sadie’s Reaction	Narrative Consequence
1	The Anchor	Sadie sits. Heavy. Immovable. She is staring at something “empty” behind Anna.
2	Selective Deafness	Anna calls, but Sadie’s ears have “stopped working.” She is intensely sniffing a specific fungal growth.
3	The Vendeen U-Turn	The moment Anna lets off the tension on the lead, Sadie trots 180° in the “wrong” direction.
4	The Happy Trudge	Sadie moves, but at a “snail’s pace,” sniffing every single blade of grass with agonizing detail.
5	The Bell-Refrain	Sadie plants her feet and lets out a deep, resonant GBGV bay/howl at a nearby thicket.
6	The Compromise	Sadie looks at Anna, sighs audibly, and moves—but only if Anna shares a ration or a “biscuit” first.

Jascqueline Tailwhisper – Grimalkin Bard.

Background & Class: Catnip Brewer. Bard.

Kindrid Type: Fairy
Age: 50
Lifespan: Immortal
Height: 3’1″
Weight: 75lbs
Languages: Woldish. Mewl.

Ability Scores: Str 10(0) Int 11(0) Wis 11(0) Dex 11(0) Con 7(-1) Cha 16(+2)

HP: 3
Save Targets: Doom 13 Ray 14 Hold 13 Blast 15 Spell 15
Magic Resistance +2
Speed: 30 (max 40)
AC: 12
Attack: +0

+2 AC vrs. Large Creatures
+2 Magical Resistance
Recover 1hp after eating a giant rat
Can spend one round to transform into a domestic cat (Chester) or fey (Wilder)form
Vulnerable to cold iron
Enchantment – by plating of singing she can fascinate subjects in a 30′ radius

Glamours: Subtle Sight

Skill Targets: Listen 5 Search 6 Survival 6 Decipher Doccument 6 Ledgerdemain 6 Monster Lore 5

Equipment: Leather Armour (AC12), Dagger (1d4 damage), Sling + 20 stones (1d4 damage), Lute, Shovel, Backpack, Belt Pouch, 50′ Rope, 2 days rations, oil flask, tinderbox, wineskin, Hooded Lamp and common clothes.

10 Gold Pieces

Notes: Jascqueline is loose with money, she has violet fur, wears a floppy beret, lots of tassels and fringes on her clothes. She has a snub nose, is eloquent and poetic in speech, she believes dreams are the true reality and wants to found a catnip distillery.