"It figures that someone would want me to tell the story of the fight with the giant cats again. I've told this one a dozen times or more now!"

Jarg was sitting on his homemade stump stool near the kitchen of Madame Benrime's excellent establishment, the Journeyman's Inn.

He had recently moved into a room behind the blacksmith's, sharing the living space with Vansel, his brother Argen and Vansel's wife Twist. Even with that, though, when Jarg wasn't busy helping the smith or the carpenter, he could be found relaxing in the inn over a mug of ale.

He was simply relaxing on this fine late spring day when a big man entered the main area of the inn. Surprisingly, Jarg didn't know him. Jarg watched as the man waited for Madame Benrime to finish talking with Petter at one of the tables scattered around the room.

It was almost impossible not to hear the man when he finally did get the chance to speak. "I have a problem with a large pack of giant cats, Madame. Three times in the last week, one or more of the farmers nearby, including Valgas, have lost animals to these damn cats."

That was when Valgas himself came stumping into the room. Stumping because his right leg from the knee down was a wooden log. That was the result of an attack on the town several years before, an attack that saw three townsfolk die and several more take severe injuries.

At least, that was what Jarg had learned on the few times he had been out to Valgas' farm to deliver items or pick up goods for the town.

"That be the truth, Madame Benrime, there be at least a dozen of these giant beasties hitting the farms out my way," stated Valgas.

The unknown big man continued, "From the brief sightings we've had, these cats look like cougars, but stand as tall as my shoulder while on all four feet." He sighed, then pointed to my little table, grabbed two chairs and dropped them there, waving to Valgas to take one of them.

Valgas griped about being treated like an invalid, but most townsfolk knew how his leg still hurt after all this time, then took the offered seat.

The big man settled himself onto the second chair, then looked across my small table, giving me a slow, full look from head to lap.

He was, as I've said, a big man himself, a bit over six feet in height, but that pales in comparison to my full height of almost eight feet. Even with us both sitting down, he actually had to look up a fair bit to look me in the eye, but he didn't seem to be afraid of me, which was quite odd.

That was explained with his next remark, "You are Jarg Stonefist, I've heard some stories of things you've done for the town recently. As for me, my name is Kelman Larco, and I'm the closest thing this town and the surrounding area have to a fully trained war captain.

"As such, when needed, I can appoint people here as contractees for specific actions. I want to hire you to help deal with these damn cats."

I sat there for a few minutes, thinking about what he had just said. Naming himself as a war captain meant he would be in the middle of the fighting himself, and he wouldn't hold back during a fight, either. He would also chew out anyone that dared to play stupid games.

The fact that Madame Benrime just nodded over his shoulder as he started talking to me added to his reputation. She obviously knew him well.

I continued to sit there and think about this situation. To be honest, with the things I'd already done here, I couldn't rightly refuse the contract. I smiled briefly at Kelman, then nodded, saying, "I'll accept it. It's my opinion, though, that you should also have Vansel helping us."

Kelman chuckled, a brief sound that showed his amusement at my comment, "That's who I'll be meeting next, Jarg. Perhaps his brother, too."

I sighed and shook my head as I replied, "Leave Argen out of it, he's never fought in a real battle. At most, he's been support for such."

Kelman at least had the sense to listen to what I said. "Maybe we could bring him along, keep him in a protected spot where he could be support for us, mostly along the lines of having a portable forge and some other gear along to be used for repairing weapons and armour?"

I thought about that for a moment, then nodded, "That could work, but someone would have to stay with him as a guard, I'd think."

It was now Kelman's turn to nod as he answered, "Hmmm... Pelkarn, the woodcutter's boy, has some skill in fighting, he could handle that."

I grunted, "So you, me and Vansel as the main fighters? Is there anyone else with decent fighting skills that could give us a hand?"

Valgas had been sitting there with his left leg out full length rather than tucked under his seat and said, "Jomar the ranger is good enough."

I sat there for a moment, thinking; I'd met Jomar once or twice around the town. "Perhaps, he's definitely good with that longbow of his."

Kelman smiled, a smile which briefly made him look quite predatory, then added, "Bellon, the wagoneer and guard, is a fairly decent fighter."

I frowned for a moment after seeing that smile, then asked, "Would five of us be sufficient for dealing with these giant cats?"

Kelman nodded again, saying, "I think so. Hey, Valgas, how would you feel about acting as support with Argen and Pelkarn?"

Valgas looked up, then growled as he glared at Kelman, "I can still swing a sword, and I can use a short bow, too, if we can get one!"

So that was how, three days later, we were heading out of town on the east road toward Valgas' farm, which would be our base. Valgas, Pelkarn and Argen would stay there, with the portable forge Argen had brought from Vansel's smithy that the three had already organized.

That left myself, Kelman, Vansel, Jomar and Bellon to head out and try to track the big cats. Jomar would be taking the lead for that.

Seven hours passed as we wandered around the area containing Valgas' farm, and those of three others nearby. Valgas' property was on the north side of the road about three miles out of Fiddler's Vale, with the farm belonging to Ramsen on his east side.

On the south side of the road were the two farms belonging to Markol and Laman, two brothers who usually planted different crops. Laman was also one of the few farmers in the area who bred beef and dairy cattle, keeping a small herd on his farm for those purposes.

Markol thought cattle were too much effort for him to put out. He kept a flock of close to seventy bighorn sheep on his pastures.

It took us a bit more than a day to figure out where the cats were striking from; we'd camped just beyond Ramsen's farm on that first night.

We did finally find tracks of the big cats about half a mile beyond Ramsen's lands, along with the recent carcass of an older dairy cow. The poor thing had been dragged all that way from Laman's farm across the road. What was odd was the lack of sign before we found the dead cow.

There should have been blood on the ground along the path taken by the cats as they dragged the cow, along with bits of skin and flesh. There wasn't anything like that, though. Kelman had everyone stop, then looked at me as if to ask my opinion about what we were seeing.

"I hate to say this, people, but there's a human or humanoid helping these cats. That cow was carried here, likely on a wagon or cart."

Kelman nodded, then looked at Jomar, who also nodded, agreeing with my assessment.

Jomar then added, "I did see what looked like cart tracks coming from Laman's farm, but they were slightly odd, like someone wrapped the wheels in heavy cloth to disguise the marks that bare wheels would have made. See here?" as he pointed at a faint marking on the ground.

I grunted, "Well, that makes it for sure, then, someone or something is helping them. We keep hunting?"

Kelman nodded again, then had Jomar lead the way, as even those of us with no tracking skill could see the cat prints in the bare dirt.

We followed the prints along the dirt for about two miles before the ground switched to grass. Jomar scanned the grass, then pointed ahead.

"They not too far ahead now, mebbe half a mile? If I remember right, there's an old cave in the hillside above the road," Jomar stated.

Kelman knew of the cave that Jomar had mentioned; it wasn't very big, maybe fifty feet deep, but large enough for the cats to use it as a lair.

"We keep going, folks, but keep a watch, we don't want to get caught by surprise by these cats or their helper, whatever it may be."

We all nodded and so we continued our hunt, eventually arriving near the cave, only to hear one of the cats yowling in full voice.

Within a few brief moments, thirteen very large cats came running and tumbling out of the cave, eager to do battle with us.

What surprised us even more, though, was the orog (a greater orc) that was straddling a fallen log not far from the cave entrance.

Behind the orog, we could all see an old, roughly cobbled together cart, with its wheels wrapped in thick cloth and a dead horse in the traces.

As I was the biggest member of our party, I pointed at the orog, saying, "He's mine. I'll help with the cats once he's dead."

Kelman shrugged just as the cats made an attempt to swarm us. I whacked one in the side of the head with a gloved fist, then strode past it to face the orog. The orog stood up just as I approached him, then picked up a club that had been on the ground beside the fallen log.

This would be a good battle, the orog was almost as big as I am, but not quite as heavy. I hefted my own great club and grinned at him.

He got the first swing, which I avoided by pivoting slightly on one foot, then I swung my club at him as he briefly stumbled.

He snarled as my club slammed into his left shoulder, but shrugged it off and swung at me again, this time just clipping my left leg.

That hurt a fair bit, but it didn't feel like anything was broken, so I whacked him again, then hit him with the sword in my left hand, too.

I'm glad that I have human intelligence thanks to being only one quarter ogre, it sure can come in handy like it did now.

See, he wasn't expecting me to fight with more than one weapon, so my club only getting a glancing hit followed by the sword ripping into his torso just below his right armpit caught him completely by surprise. He staggered, blood flying through the air, so I swung my sword again.

The second strike with the sword was right in the neck, which wasn't protected. The orog dropped to the ground, already dying.

I looked down, then growled as I used the sword to kill the orog by cutting off its head. Then I turned around to enter the fight with the cats.

Kelman, Jomar, Bellon and Vansel had already killed five of the huge cats as I waded into the fray, using both the club and the sword.

All of the men could hear me growling in battle lust as I charged at the remaining cats, clubbing one on the head and slicing a fair chunk from another cat's shoulder as I burst through their little group, stopping briefly before I turned to charge at the cats again.

While I was turning, Vansel whacked one of the cats on the rump with his big hammer, smashing it's spine in the process. He followed up that hit with another strike on the same cat, this one to the head, crushing it and cutting off the horrible yowling sound the first hit had caused.

Kelman was fighting what looked to be the biggest cat of the six that remained uninjured, he ripped open its belly with one swipe of his axe.

By that point, I was facing the cats again, and with another strike to the head, I killed the one I had already hit there a moment before.

Bellon and Jomar were working together, Bellon using his sword and shield to harry one of the cats while Jomar used his bow. That cat ended up with an arrow striking just above its right ear, which distracted it enough that Bellon was able to slit its throat with his sword.

I then turned slightly and swung my club at the cat I had cut with my sword, striking it in the shoulder and knocking it off its feet for a moment. That was long enough for me to lean forward a bit and swing my sword, which came close to removing the cat's head in one blow.

I almost missed seeing Kelman rushing to stand just back of my left shoulder and strike at a cat that had somehow gotten behind me.

Kelman hit that one full on with his great axe, dropping the beast to the ground as it shuddered in its death throes.

Now there were just two of the cats left, I growled again and actually threw my club at one of the cats, hitting it in the middle of the back. I followed that up by pouncing on the same cat, swinging my sword with both hands as I landed, almost cutting the cat in half.

I picked up my club, and with a swift swing of my sword, sent that one on to the death lands to join its brothers and sisters.

Bellon and Jomar had worked together again, Bellon hassling the last cat with his sword as Jomar put three arrows into it. At the same time as Jomar's third arrow entered the cat's lower brain at the base of the head, Bellon swung and put his sword deep into the cat's belly.

That cat slumped to the ground, both the last arrow wound and the vicious stab from Bellon were killing wounds. Bellon's strike hadn't quite hit the heart, but it had cut one of the major arteries not far from the heart itself, and the cat only lasted for a few brief minutes before it died.

The battle was over, thirteen giant cats scattered across the ground in front of us and the orog lay dead near the fallen log next to the cave.

Kelman had been clawed at least four times during the battle, two of them getting through his tough leather armour. Bellon had taken a swipe from one of the cats on his left shoulder, which hurt enough that he had been having trouble keeping his shield up to protect himself. Vansel, like Kellon, was wearing leather armour, and somehow had managed to come through the battle with no serious injuries.

Me, I'd taken that hit to my leg from the orog, which hurt like hell, but from what I could see wasn't bleeding, just turning into a large bruise.

The five of us stumbled and staggered down the road for more than two hours, finally reaching Valgas's barn and the wagon there. Kelman had prepared for what might happen by having some bandages and three minor healing potions in the wagon, which had been left behind.

We all had a good laugh over that as Kelman, Bellon and I all had a dose or two of the potions, which soon revived us completely.

Vansel asked us to hand him our weapons briefly, then fired up the portable forge and fixed the minor bits of damage the weapons had taken.

Once he was done, he carefully shut down the fire, waiting for it to cool before he and I picked the portable forge up and placed it in the wagon.

We entered the town about an hour after that, with Vansel parking the wagon in the street in front of the Journeyman's Inn.

Valgas had decided to stay at his farm, which meant there were seven of us bellying up to the short bar, yelling for ales.

Madame Benrime appeared a moment later, listened as Kelman told her the cats had been dealt with, then served the first round of ales.

The seven of us partied late into the evening that night, sitting close to the hearth, with the tale being told there for the first time.

To this day, I'm not sure who came up with the name of "The Trouble With Cats" for the tale, but it seems to have become another local legend.