The Setting:
The time of hoomans is long gone, leaving behind evolved cats that live in cities of their own making as the alpha species. Mommy Nurtur has bestowed upon the cats the ability to wield Meowgic as well as mundane weapons, stand upright on their hind legs, and wear the latest fashions. The world's cities are now comfortable and full of catnip, although there is still plenty of adventure to find in the great outdoors - especially around the ancient ruins full of dangerous Miasma that feed the vile rats, toads, snakes, and other villains.

The Game:
Players will each be playing a pre-made character that is part of the inner circle of King Clawdius IV in the great city of Clawford; sent on a mission into the wilds to retrieve something very precious to him that has been stolen. It is not a task he feels he can entrust to anyone else.

The System:
CATaclysm is an RPG that utilises a single d10 for any action that has a chance of failure. Health is tracked by a colour coded dial with four phases - Healthy, Stressed, Injured, and Dead. As the characters will be cats, Death is only temporary... until you've used up your ninth life! Puns will be encouraged and welcomed.

Mittens, Wellington's most prominent citizen, has disappeared. Is it an accident, a plot by jealous can openers, or something more sinister? The wise and respected elder cat Lola has summoned the best and bravest cats to find out what has happened.

Adventure Land. A world of excitement and peril, where hulking wheeled monsters sleep in their steel and canvas dens. They dream uneasy dreams, waiting to be reborn as the ivy slowly grows to engulf them all. They dwell in a place abandoned by humans long ago - a place since reclaimed by its rightful owners.

That'd be cats, of course.

Not the foxes and stray dogs that attempt to take over the place night after night. Not the pigeons and magpies from across the river either. And especially not those upstart rats that seem to infest every nook, cranny and corner they can get their grubby little paws on. Definitely not them.

No, the Great Idea favours quality over quantity. And it wouldn't be the Great Idea if it'd got things wrong now, would it?

Given your standing as a proud example of the feline species, you feel that things are exactly the way they should be. You're one of the chosen few. Defender of your favourite playground. Discoverer of the Sacred Duck Pond. Hero of the Mirror Maze.

Rescuer of...kittens?

Welcome to Adventure Land.

Your dreaming and your cat is talking to you.

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, your cat says. "You aren’t in charge. Sure, I know you like to think you are, and with your guns and lights and cars, you can kill just about anything you want. But killing a thing with a gun or a car isn’t the same as killing it with your claws, and that’s where you all fall short. When it comes to fierce fighting, your kind are about as helpless as kittens.

That’s why, every thousand years, we win the contest, and why, every thousand years, you all come in dead last. Your champion shows up all half-witted and naked, no more ready for battle than a white blister ready to be popped. You’ve
got no teeth and you’ve got no claws, and you just don’t remember how to fight. It’s a shame, really. You know why? Because the less you know about protecting yourselves, the more we have to know about protecting you..."

You are a cat. As such, the world has obviously been put in place for your convenience. So why then, you ask yourself, do you find yourself locked up at the local SPCA after your latest caper? What could have possessed them to go look for you, trap you in a corner and stick you in a cage next to a bunch of lowlifes that clearly deserve to be here much more than you do? All you did was chase that rat along the ledge, after all. It wasn't your fault that that flowerpot stood where it did, and that the two-foot below walked past at that precise moment.

This will not stand. You and your fellow cats haven't been guiding two-footkind according to the principles the Great Idea for the last ten millennia, subtly influencing their minds to make the world more suitable for you, just to let it come to this. This is outrageous, and clearly not the way things were intended to be. Besides, that big hairydog in the bottom row just started snoring, and it's getting on your nerves.

You're getting out of here. As fast and as quietly as possible.

Wandering the seas on the way back from the Trojan War, a group of heroes find themselves on the island of Epeiros. The tiny kingdom is prosperous, happy - and a haven for hundreds or thousands of cats. It is said that if the cats were ever to leave the town of Epeiros, it would signal doom for the kingdom. But with what fate could the capricious gods possibly threaten such a place? What secrets do the unblinking eyes of the cats conceal? And, most important, what glory would accrue to the hero who could save Epeiros from its mysterious prophecy?

Agon is a game of Greek myth, in which you cooperate with your fellow heroes to succeed in a quest, while competing with them to determine who will take their place among the stars, and whose grave will be forgotten along with their deeds.

Wandering the seas on the way back from the Trojan War, a group of heroes find themselves on the island of Epeiros. The tiny kingdom is prosperous, happy – and a haven for hundreds or thousands of cats. It is said that if the cats were ever to leave the town of Epeiros, it would signal doom for the kingdom. But with what fate could the capricious gods possibly threaten such a place? What secrets do the unblinking eyes of the cats conceal? And, most important, what glory would accrue to the hero who could save Epeiros from its mysterious prophecy?

Agon is a game of Greek myth, in which you cooperate with your fellow heroes to succeed in a quest, while competing with them to determine who will take their place among the stars, and whose grave will be forgotten along with their deeds.

Once your life was one of leisure: your food served to you, so that you only needed to hunt for pleasure. There was always a warm spot to lie in, a warm lap to curl up in. Yes, life was grand.

But then, came the night of panic. A loud scream split the air, and all your humans left, taking little more with them then those extra-skins that they wear. You were forgotten, abandoned.

And now the streets lie empty, the houses cold and dark. Your belly rumbles with hunger.
And the dogs are rising up against you.

(Very) Loosely inspired by Stephen Moore's book of the same name, "Tooth and Claw" is the fate of the cats and dogs left behind when their humans are evacuated; survival of the fittest, the fastest, and the most bloody-minded.

Will the cats be able to band together, against their common adversity? Or is there worse to come?