Berkholdt's Traveling Menagerie

The immense tortoise stopped, seeing Mordane. Ever so slowly, it lowered itself to the ground until it laid flat on its belly, giving plenty of time for the numerous animals underneath to scurry away. When it finally reached the ground, it hit with a ground-shaking thump, knocking leaves off nearby trees and causing one particularly sensitive goat to faint. The Captain would find himself in front of a set of stairs built into the shell, leading up to the mansion's front door. It was large and ornate, but very worn. A brass knocker in the shape of a frog hung in the middle of the door, glittering invitingly in the sunlight. If he tried the door, Mordane would find it to be locked. The mat in front of the door, however, read "Welcome". From within, the sound of scurrying and flapping wings could be heard. A splintering crunch rang out from Mordane's left, and he would see that the tortoise had just bitten off the top of a massive pine tree.

Barely a second after Mordane knocked, the door swung open. Inside appeared to be a fairly standard entryway, with the exception of the tree growing where the hat stand usually stood. Instead of hats, tiny songbirds sat on the branches, announcing Mordane's entrance with a fanfare of chitters and chirps. Their feathers glittered in the sunlight shining through the window, looking as though they had been covered with tiny rubies.

Mordane's attention would likely be pulled away from the birds, however, by a small creature that walked up and bumped its head up against his shin. It looked like a rather short and chubby cat tabby cat, but had the face of an owl and a pair of wings to match. The owlcat (if that was indeed what the creature was called) squeaked at him, nipping at his shoelace with its beak. A man's voice echoed through the hall, although the speaker himself remained unseen.

"I believe he wants you to take your shoes off. Please set them nicely on the rack."

The owlcat squeaked again, tugging at his shoelaces until they came undone. A second owlcat did the same with his other boot, and they dragged them over to the shelf to be put away. Purring softly as they were patted, the oddly adorable creatures began to rub up against Mordane's legs. They were awfully soft, with an odd mix of feathers on the back and fur on the front. The voice spoke once more, echoing through the entryway.

"Yes, of course. Do come in, Mr. Mordane."

The entryway led into a large living room, furnished comfortably with a large couch and a coffee table with a turtle design on it. An elderly man sat on the couch, a gold-topped cane leaning against the armrest. He smiled at Mordane, revealing exactly four teeth in his mouth.

"Why, hello there, Mr. Mordane. Welcome to my home. Would you like something to drink?"

The owlcats scurried over to him, jumping up on his lap. Meanwhile, a snake slithered across the floor, sliding over Mordane's shoeless feet. It didn't seem to pay the newcomer any heed, however.

Heavy footsteps came down the hall, and a large black bear entered the room. It walked on two legs, and carried a tray bearing a kettle of tea and all its various accouterments. The bear walked over to the table and set the tea down, before letting out a soft grunt and lumbering off once more. The old man chuckled.

"He's quite a nice bear, don't you agree? I have no idea where he came from. Probably from the library or something, I've heard that there's a den in there. Who knows, though. But where are my manners? I'm Harold T. Berkholdt, and this is my home. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Mordane! We don't get all that many visitors nowadays, now that the opera has ceased its run. What brings you here?"

One of the owlcats tugged on Mordane's sleeve, pulling him towards the couch.

Mr. Berkholdt laughed, dropping several sugar cubes into his tea. He stirred it with what appeared to be a small twig, before taking a long sip.

"Oh, we never had an opera here. There was an opera about us, though. It made its rounds in Gauldin, but that's all over now. I went to see it once, on the opening night. It was quite nice. I can still remember the final song, Till the Filthy End...the protagonist was swallowed by ol' Betsy, you see. That's the tortoise. Utter nonsense, she never eats anything but plants...but my gods, was it catchy."

He whistled a cheerful tune for a few bars, then stopped.

"You're welcome to stay the night, of course! We have a guest room that you're welcome to stay in, as long as you don't mind rabbits. There are some parts of the mansion that you should avoid, though. They're completely wild, and can be rather dangerous. The library, for example. I've got no clue what's in there, except that it's ferocious."

Mr. Berkholdt shook his head, holding up his hand.

"Oh no, I'm not running an inn. No payment necessary, you're a guest in my home. All I ask is that you avoid disturbing the wildlife, that's all. Really, I'm just glad to have some company. So tell me, Mr. Mordane...what is it that you do for a living? Most of the people I meet out here are traders or adventurers, and you don't look much like a trader."

The owlcat curled up in Mordane's lap and went to sleep, snoring softly. Berkholdt grinned, petting the one laying across his own legs.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce these two. This one is Buckwheat, and the one on you is Ham. They're quite the nuisance sometimes, but I put up with them anyway."

Ham purred softly as he slept, wings fluffing and fluttering gently. Berkholdt chuckled at the question, sipping at his tea before answering.

"I've been here a long time, Mr. Mordane. Since before you ever first picked up a sword. Come now, I'll show you to your room. It's not much, but I'm sure you'll be comfortable enough. More so than outside, that is."

He picked up Buckwheat, who squeaked indignantly at the injustice of it all, and set him aside. Rising slowly from his seat, he picked up the cane and limped towards the hall, beckoning for Mordane to follow. He led the mercenary through the hallway, ducking down as a pigeon flew overhead, and opened a door. The room inside was fairly large, but lacking in furnishings. The ground was covered in grass, and rabbits hopped into their burrows when the door opened. A large tent sat in the middle of the room, with a soft, heavy bedroll inside. It looked fairly comfortable, far better than sleeping outdoors. A desk and a dresser sat in the corner, looking remarkably out of place in the nature-filled room.

"Here you go, Mr. Mordane. I do hope this is alright. Please feel free to shoo the rabbits away if they begin to bother you."

Ham, who had followed the two, ran in and began chasing the rabbits around the room. However, the agile creatures were far too fast for his chubby body, and he was soon sprawled out on the ground, tired.

The old man nodded, grinning.

"Of course we have a kitchen! It's a house, after all. Don't worry, dinner is on me. I hope you don't mind vegetables, though. I really don't eat meat nowadays, living with all these animals. I don't mind too much if you do, as long as you don't catch them in the house! I'd hate to see snares on the bookshelves and things like that."

Ham pounced on a particularly elderly rabbit, pinning it to the ground. Berkholdt noticed, and poked the owlcat away with his cane.

"Get off there, Ham! You know the rules!"

The owlcat bowed its head down, walking back to Berkholdt and leaning against his legs. The old man sighed.

"I really can't stop animals from hunting each other around here, especially in the library. Still, it pains me to see the rabbits torn apart. Ham usually can't catch them, thankfully, but the foxes can. Please shut the door when you're not using it, or they'll get in and wreck havoc."