Hr’kall — a creature that shouldn’t exist, but does
Hr’kall feels like something the world created by accident and then shrugged: “Well… since he’s here, we’ll keep him.”
It is:
as fast as a squirrel,
as neurotic as a cat,
as noble as a cat when it feels like it,
as unhinged as a squirrel when it doesn’t,
and constantly ready to explode with energy nobody asked for.
Appearance
Size: somewhere between a squirrel and a small cat
Body: flexible, slender, with long hind legs perfect for jumping
Fur: soft, dense, perpetually tousled, as if it just ran through fog and static electricity
Tail: long, fluffy, squirrel‑like — used as a steering rudder
Eyes: large, amber, with the expression “I know exactly what I’m doing” (it doesn’t)
Ears: twitchy, sensitive, reacting even to sounds that do not exist
Temperament
Unhinged: goes from stillness to full sprint in one second
Neurotic: reacts to every stimulus, including mood changes and weather
Noble: sits with the elegance of an aristocratic cat
Adorable: when it wants to be
Unbearable: most of the time
Behavior
Runs on everything: trunks, branches, roofs, ground, your shoulder, your head
Movement: grace + chaos, like a cat attempting parkour
Startled: jumps so high it violates physics
Bored: chases its own tail but pretends it’s for philosophical reasons
Scared: makes the sound hrk‑hrk‑hrk (hence the name)
Hr’kall and the Council of Elders
The Council of Elders sits in a circle. Not because it’s symbolic. But because if they sat in a line, half of them would forget who the chairperson is, and the other half would assume it’s them.
The air is heavy, quiet, slightly dusty. Someone is dozing off. Someone is trying to remember whether they already had lunch or whether lunch is still ahead. Someone is staring into the void, pretending to ponder deep matters, but is actually trying to calculate how old they are.
And then — without warning, without logic, without physics — plop.
A Hr’kall lands in the middle of the circle.
It does not jump. It does not run in. It does not arrive.
It is simply there.
Hr’kall looks around. Its tail sways like an antenna catching signals from another dimension. Its ears vibrate. Its eyes widen.
And the Council of Elders — the tired, forgetful, half‑asleep Council — inhales as one.
And freezes.
Because anyone who has lived in Tal’gorr for more than three days knows one thing:
The critical mass of Hr’kall is one Hr’kall.
And here is one. Right in the center. In a room full of people with fragile joints, slow reflexes, and zero chance of survival if the Hr’kall gets an idea.
No one moves. No one breathes. No one even blinks.
One elder feels a tear running down his cheek but is afraid to wipe it away — it might make a sound.
Hr’kall leans forward. Raises a paw. Blinks.
And in that moment, the entire Council silently prays to every known and unknown force that the creature will:
not hear a sound,
not feel a vibration,
not remember its tail,
and above all, not start hrk‑hrk‑hrking.
Because everyone knows that a careless movement or noise can have far‑reaching consequences. And Hr’kall is mentally and spatially unstable. Which means far‑reaching consequences can occur even without movement or noise.
Hr’kall and Physics
The critical mass of Hr’kall is one Hr’kall
Mentally and spatially unstable
Can only be measured or weighed after sedation
Impossible to measure speed and position simultaneously
Has only a probability of location: “Hr’kall is probably somewhere over there.”
Exists continuously, but in quanta
Exhibits wave‑like properties — the worst events in Sionareth’s history are Hr’kall waves
Bipilon’s Note
What happens if you try to put a Hr’kall in a metal box?
