Sablepaw the undead cat

When Sablepaw was alive and human, he was a man of average height, about 1m75, with an air of quiet intelligence and focus. He had sharp green eyes, always glinting with curiosity and ambition, framed by wavy, shoulder-length brown hair that he often kept tied back when working on his magical studies. His skin was pale, a sign of the long hours spent indoors, and his lean frame reflected his life dedicated more to the arcane than to physical pursuits. Sablepaw usually dressed in simple dark robes, preferring practical attire over extravagant displays. His fingers were often ink-stained from his notes, and he carried the faint scent of burnt herbs, a mark of his constant experimentation with magic. Sablepaw has forgotten his ancient human's name.

The spell that changed Sablepaw’s life forever was one of his own design, a risky combination of necromancy and soul-binding magic. In his pursuit of immortality, Sablepaw aimed to transfer his soul into a vessel that could endure the ages. He chose the body of a cat he had found dead in the streets, believing that if he could succeed with such a small creature, he could later perfect the spell on a grander scale, using his own body or something more durable. The ritual required complex sigils drawn in blood, enchanted candles, and an incantation that demanded the caster's full focus. As he performed the spell, the air around him grew thick with dark energy, his voice echoing off the walls as he recited the ancient words. However, something went horribly wrong, whether due to his inexperience or a flaw in his calculations, the spell backfired. Instead of tethering his soul to the cat’s body temporarily, it became permanent. Sablepaw’s human body collapsed lifelessly to the floor, while his consciousness awoke in the decaying form of the dead cat. He had become trapped, his soul bound to the fragile, crumbling body of a creature long past its natural life.

Sablepaw’s mentor was a formidable sorcerer known as Othren, a reclusive figure who lived far from the cities in a tower carved into the side of a cliff. Othren was tall, with a gaunt, skeletal frame and a perpetually stern expression, his grey hair hanging long and unkempt around his face. His eyes were an unsettling, ice-blue, always watching, always calculating, as though he could see through to the very core of his students’ intentions. Othren believed deeply in the idea that magic was not simply a tool, but a force to be controlled and mastered through sheer will and discipline. He had little patience for those he deemed weak or foolish and often put his apprentices through grueling tasks to prove their worth. However, despite his cold demeanor, Othren did recognize talent and ambition when he saw it, and it was these qualities that had led him to take Sablepaw under his wing. His teaching methods were harsh, focused on testing the limits of his students’ magical abilities, but he instilled in Sablepaw a deep understanding of the darker aspects of magic, especially necromancy.