Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with a large, flat object covered in drawings of elves and dragons, which they call a "roleplaying game." From what I can gather, this is not a toy in the traditional sense of something I can chase or disembowel. Instead, it’s a catalyst for a bizarre human ritual involving sitting around a table for hours, making strange voices, and consulting this heavy book as if it were a sacred text. The primary appeal for a feline of my caliber would be the accessories: the small, rollable, multi-sided objects they call "dice" are perfect for batting under the heaviest furniture, and the book itself, once the initial noisy ceremony is over, promises to be a sturdy and elevated napping platform. The game itself seems a profound waste of time that could be better spent staring at a wall or demanding sustenance.
Key Features
- Tales of Xadia: The Dragon Prince Roleplaying Game is about characters who experience love, war, family, heartbreak, and triumph in the world of the ground-breaking Netflix animated series.
- Forge your own adventure in Xadia, the world of The Dragon Prince!
- Will you negotiate in the political arena of the Human Kingdoms, explore a wilderness full of magical creatures, or something else?
- Anything is possible in Tales of Xadia, the official TTRPG of The Dragon Prince.
- Narrative-focused traits and archetypes quickly bring your characters and stories to life and make them feel like they truly belong in the world of Xadia.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The evening began with a gathering of the tribe. My human, The Provider, and several of her associates convened around the Great Polished Plateau, a place normally reserved for sacred offerings of roasted fowl. But tonight, there was no food. Instead, The Provider placed the heavy tome, *Tales of Xadia*, in the center. I observed from my perch on the credenza, a silent, gray-furred judge in a crisp white tuxedo. They began their ritual, a strange cacophony of voices describing things I could not see. "You see a majestic Moonstrider," one of them chanted. I yawned. I had personally faced down the vacuum cleaner, a far more terrifying beast, just that morning. Their hands moved across sheets of parchment, and they would occasionally roll those delightful, shiny pebbles across the wood. One of the pebbles, a sharp-edged blue one, tumbled off the edge and skittered across the floor. A tribute, at last. I hopped down, my paws silent on the rug, and approached the offering. It was cool to the touch. I gave it a tentative pat, sending it spinning into the darkness beneath the sofa—a worthy sacrifice to the under-couch gods. My work done, I returned to my observation, my interest piqued not by their game, but by the book itself. As their droning voices wove tales of magic and political intrigue, I saw my opportunity. With the grace inherent to my species, I leaped onto the table, my landing softer than a whisper. The humans paused, looking at me. I met their gaze with one of utter indifference, then proceeded to walk directly across their "map of the Sunfire Elf camp," my tail held high. I settled myself directly onto the open pages of the book, right on a chapter titled "Creating Your Character." The pages were smooth, the binding was firm, and it absorbed the warmth of the overhead light beautifully. They were creating characters, but I *was* character. They sighed, a sound I've learned means reluctant acceptance of my superiority, and played around me. I closed my eyes, the murmur of their imagined world a dull lullaby. They could have their Xadia. I had found my throne. The book, I decided as I drifted off to sleep, was an object of supreme quality. Not for their silly game, of course, but for its true purpose: providing a distinguished gentleman like myself with a perfectly elevated and comfortable place to nap. It was, in the end, worthy.
