The battle had been won, but the victory felt hollow.

In the middle of the battlefield, only an empty pile of robes and armor remained where their leader had once stood.

All horrified at the sight until a soft, indignant meow broke the stunned silence.

Gale was the first to put it together. Having picked up the small, furred creature that now sat in the wreckage of their gear. He turned them over gently in his hands, eyes narrowing in realization. Undeniably the cat had the same colour scheme of their leader.

“Oh dear.”

The rest of the party gathered close, peering at the cat now trapped in Gale’s grasp.

Karlach blinked. “No way.”

“It appears our leader has been… made adorable.” Astarion said, smirking. He reached out and poked the cat’s tiny nose, laughing when it batted him away with a furious paw.

“They have been cursed?” Shadowheart murmured, her brows furrowing. She reached out, carefully touching the cat’s fur, as if searching for lingering magic.

“Yes, thank you, Shadowheart, I had not noticed.” Gale muttered, sighing. He turned to the group. “The question is, how do we reverse it?”

“Can’t we just dispel it?” Wyll asked, but his hopeful look faded when Gale shook his head.

“Tried that. Nothing.”

“What about greater restoration?” Halsin suggested.

“I already attempted it.” Shadowheart said. “It had no effect.”

The cat, their fearless leader, let out a sharp yowl, leaping from Gale’s hands onto Karlach’s shoulder. She barely reacted, only grinning as they curled into a disgruntled, sulking loaf against her neck.

“I don’t know, guys.” Karlach said, scratching behind their ears. “I think I could get used to this.”

“As could I.” Astarion added with a smirk. “They’re far less argumentative this way.”

The cat shot him a deadly glare.

“Alright, alright, enough fooling around.” Wyll said. “We need to fix this before they’re stuck like this forever.”

“Agreed.” Lae’zel grunted. “They are useless to us in this form.”