The Changing of the Guard (Mouse Guard)

Game Master Kobold Catgirl

The crowd stares at Baron, utterly flummoxed. A few of the mice from Walnutpeck look scared or upset.

Assuming she's there with him, Robin scans the crowd, hoping his proclamation wouldn't fall on only mouse ears.

Guys, a weasel is about three times the size of a mouse. Even if they were of the inclination to live among mice, there is no way they could pull off the disguise.

Oh my gosh, those nasty weasels have even fooled YOU, Fear! Such evil creatures would stoop as low as to have weasel-children dressing up as mice to infiltrate our fair cities. Never underestimate them!

Okay, no weasels. That's good. Folks! Fear not, at least I checked. Be not afraid. It is standard protocol to attempt to flush out spies in this manner among busy crowds and lovely town. Never fear, the mousegaurd is here to protect you. Baron raises his Halberd high. This is an attempt to make a check in Persuade, which I've already used beginners luck on and I think failed, so... 2d6 ⇒ (5, 1) = 6

Actually, that's Oratory, but you have neither.

Failure: You face a Twist for this.

Baron finds himself quietly approached by the town sheriff. "We appreciate what the Guard has done for us today, but I can't have rabblerousers or pranksters making trouble. A lot of the mice here have had bad experiences with weasels, you see."

Baron feels a firm paw grip his shoulder. Turning, he sees the sheriff's deputy behind him.

"Morris," the sheriff says, "please escort this mouse back to his patrol and make sure they properly see to his chastisement. Seems like they'll let anyone join these days..."

And since Ingrid doesn't want to use her check, it can be donated to whoever else wants it (Baron might want to use it to make up for this misunderstanding, for instance,). Next, though, is Robin. What do you want to do?

Ahhh! Nice one GM. Looks like I will get to practice my PERSUADE after all once Robin is done.
Ah cr*p. Lady Gwendolyn's gonna be so mad!

I totally missed the last part of your post yesterday, sorry about this!

Robin feels that she must speak up in defense of the Mouse Guard. To see their own being carried off like some common criminal was too much to bear.

"Good people!" she cries out, addressing the crowd. "The threat of weasels is all too real. But fear not! The Mouse Guard will see to it that nobody need suffer from their foulness again! We have the best fighters! The swiftest of scouts! The bravest of hearts! We will defeat the weasels, and take back the lands that were once ours! I say such mice deserve our support, don't you? Three cheers for the Mouse Guard! Hip hip!"

Orator skill 2: 2d6 ⇒ (6, 2) = 8

.

The affairs are settled, and to an extent, Robin of Barkstone is able to salvage the good name of the Guard.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Carved deep into solid gray stone, only the ivy-covered face of Lockhaven is visible from the outside. This sanctuary from the wind and cold and violence of the outside is a place of peace and respite for the Mouse Guard, and for those brave and noble mice who fall for the cause, Lockhaven often provides the last peaceful night's rest they'll ever get. As many patrols are out delivering mail, gathering food, settling old affairs long put off by the cold grip of Winter, three guardsmice are to be set to an especially dangerous and trying task.

Welcome to Lockhaven.

This dark evening, Gwendolyn has called George into her office, claiming matters of grave urgency. The Patrol Leader finds his commanding officer hunched over a map of the Territories, eyes narrowed to slits. He notices that many pawns have been placed upon it—for indeed, almost all the Guard are abroad by now. All save him, and a scant few others.

The Matriarch of Lockhaven and head of the Mouse Guard straightens. "Yes, very good. I believe it will work. Actually, George, before I delve into the precise mission, where is your tenderpaw at the moment?"

Gwendolyn, Matriarch of the Guard.

Vivian and Thom can feel free to express where exactly they are right now, assuming George doesn't beat Vivian to it.

Vivian was with George when he got the call. She followed him up and now waits in the hall, mumbling half-remembered words to a Guard-related bards tale while sharpening her chef's knife.

George?

"Perhaps you might call her in here, George. In light of her upbringing, she might find the details of this mission interesting. And I always find her earnestness delightful."

Sorry, forgot to dot the thread so no new posts showed

George nods quickly and slips his head through the door.
Lass, come in here, this might be important
He returns then to the table and looks over the map. He gives Gwendolyn a once-over and crosses his arms.
So, Gwendolyn, what can we do for you on this very nice day?

"What- oh yes, okay okay." Vivian quickly tucks away her belongings, clears her throat, and stands tall before following George. She bows to Gwendolyn upon entering and places herself at her mentor's side.

Sorry, left my Mouse Guard book at home and it has the territory information.

Gwendolyn nods respectfully as Vivian enters the room. "Good evening, Vivian."

"I won't gild the truth—this is an extremely dangerous mission. Pebblebrook is all-but-unfriendly territory, and that close to the Scent Border, there is a very real risk of large predators turning up. Should either of you not feel comfortable taking this mission, I will completely understand. Failing this, George, who would you prefer be your third companion?"

The Map of the Territories (non-cursive, out-of-date one)

George twitched his whiskers, and looked around the room.

Honestly, anyone who can fight and who can survive outside. You said it yourself, you don't have many mice to spare. So give me who you can, I'll make due.

He turns towards Vivian.

So, lass, you hear her, this will be dangerous. Are you feeling up for it?

"Yesofcourse!" Vivian blurts suddenly. Embarrased, she stops, clears her throat, and turns to Gwendolyn before saying, "Yes, I mean. It sounds important. You can place your faith in us, m'am!"

Privately, she wonders, Shaleburrow's right on the road to Pebblebrook. Maybe we can stop at Gooseberry Tavern; my parents would be thrilled to see me as a tenderpaw now!

"I'm glad I can." Gwendolyn seems to examine the pawns on the map for a moment. "I believe Thom will serve you well. He's a skilled pathinder and a good soul.

"The road to the town will be dangerous, but the town may prove even moreso. We know very little of what has become of the place—if it even still stands. But if it does, there is one mouse you [i]must seek out before you do anything else. Rosalee was once a Patrol Guard, like Thom, but somewhere down the line something got to her and she had to retire. Our duty is not an easy one. She may be your best hope of finding true, unbiased answers as to what has happened in Pebblebrook."[/i]

George leans over the map and studies it for several quiet moments.
Well, I reckon the best way to get there would be through Shaleburrow and Barkstone as pit stops to resupply if necessary and then straight on to Pebblebrook.
He gives Gwendolyn a sharp look.
Possible large predators huh?

Vivian nods in agreement with George as he studies the map, and when he presses about predators, she looks to her mentor and Gwendolyn, trying to gauge their reactions.

Whomever is looking can see that George is trying to keep a stern facade, but that he is unnerved by the mention of predators

Will there be owls? Oh please just not owls he thinks trying to get a hold of himself.

"As you draw nearer to the Scent Border, the chances grow higher." Gwendolyn frowns. "Naturally, the greatest risks will involve ground predators. You must be careful as you embark."

Well, the chances of meeting any also depend on the amount of time that has passed since the scent border was last repoured. How long was that exactly?

"We generally repour them at the end of Spring and the end of Fall."

George nods.
Very well, when do we leave, matriarch?

Gwendolyn raises an eyebrow. "Twenty minutes. I suggest you get packed and go find Thom. Oh, and drop by the apiarist before you leave. He has something for you."

Thom is free to announce where he can be found whenever he's free.

As Gwendolyn and George discuss these plans, Vivian tries to think of any good questions to ask, but only thinks of one. Waiting until they are in the hall, Vivian then prods George for more, "You've been in the guard for years, George, sir. No disrespect intended, but I'd not think you to be afraid anything by now. Do we have that much to worry about from the predators?"

George turns towards Vivian. You heard her, lass, go pack your things, meet me in the main cortyard in twenty minutes.
He bows to Gwendolyn, formally saying With your permission and leaves the room in a brisk walk, turning towards the apiarist immediately. Several hallways and staircases later, he is at the door. He raises his hand and knocks, briskly three times.

Oh darn, forgot to change
Before he leaves, George listens to the young tenderpaw's question. His whiskers twitch, and she can see an old fear in his eye for a moment.

As long as we don't go outside the scent border, no, we don't have to worry too much, lass. If something comes after us, we can always hide. Owls though, I pray we don't run into an owl. Now go, pack, and worry not, you're with me.
He puts his hand on her shoulder and smiles reassuringly, then turns and quicklu walks away.

The apiarist, a wheezing old gray oldfur, answers the door. He tilts his head. "Evening, George. You here for Gwendolyn?"

George nods his head and. Evening, I am.

At George's direction, Vivian heads back to her room and sorts through her belongings. Triple-checking what she packs, she then makes her way down to the courtyard, finds a seat, and flips through a writing about owls while she waits for George and Thom.

The apiarist walks back into his laboratory. A moment later, he returns with, strangely enough, a large vase. The opening is quite large and covered in a fine mesh. "Gwendolyn wants word as soon as possible," he says. "I believe this will work. Tie your message to the leg and it should return to the hive. Don't worry, it hasn't got a sting."

An irritated buzzing comes from within the vase.

George accepts the vase, gingerly and looks inside as much as he can with the mesh.
I assume it requires feeding? He asks

Thom hums to himself as he packs away things in his room. He never had many personal effects anyway, as he didn't like to weigh himself down when on the road; most of his special belongings were at his parent's home.

He'd been told to get ready and await orders for something, although he hadn't been told what. It would involve travelling no doubt, which Thom was always willing to do. He hadn't been out since before the winter, and he was eager to prove his worth with his Maps.

The apiarist procures a small pouch. "Sprinkle some of this into the thing's home tomorrow."

George and Vivian should meet up and go see Thom.

Wait, who's meeting who?

Fixed.

George slings the jar over his shoulder, nods to the apiarist and goes to his room. He carefully, but quickly packs his things, buckles his weapons and shield and goes to meet Vivian all armed and ready.

Here I am lass, now let's go meet this third mouse.

Vivian stashes her reading and hops to her feet. "Yessir, George!" As they make their way to Thom's room, she's distracted by the buzzing jar, her eyes repeatedly darting to it as they walk. She doesn't ask George about it, though.

Once in front of Thom's room, she gives two quick knocks on the door before placing herself at her mentor's side.

Thom was sat on his bed, examining his latest hand drawn map when the knocks came upon his door. He jumped up, and swung the wooden door open swiftly. Seeing an older mouse and his capeless novice, Thom saluted the patrol leader.
"Thom Red, at your service" he smiles. "Am I safe in assuming you will be giving me my assignment?"

"Giving, yes..and well, it's our assignment too. I'm Vivian, and this is my mentor, George." Vivian gives a slight bow before indicating the patrol leader.

George gives a curt nod. Mornin'. Are you ready to go?

Thom gestures to his packed satchels. "Indeed! Where are we headed? And for what purpose?" Thom says, grabbing his belongings and closing the door behind him as he joined the others in the hall.

We're going to a town called Pebblebrook. To see if we can glean anything about their attitude towards the Guard. I suggest we talk more once we're out of earshot, say when we make first camp?

Vivian parrots George's suggestion, "Yes. Gwendolyn tells us there are already rumors circulating about this possibly delicate situation. We'd best take care not to stoke that fire."

Yes, yes, lass. No need to get excited about it.

The mice set out from Lockhaven. Their mission: To reach Pebblebrook and determine the isolated town's condition.

The patrol experiences little trouble on the road to Shaleburrow, and they are greeted warmly by Vivian's parents.

A subterranean town built into flaky shale, the mice of Shaleburrow use access to an underground spring and the cool underground stone to store perishable foods. They harvest many fruits and nuts using handmade shale tools. They also brew and ferment a variety of beverages. They make many of their structures and items from wood collected west of the burrow's opening. Many mice families live here because of the abundance of food, the protective nature of the town and its proximity to Lockhaven.

Sadly, they don't have the time to stop long at the Gooseberry Tavern, but Gale & Lawrence Gooseberry promise each mouse a free round on the return journey—and a free mug of non-fermented apple cider for Vivian.

En route to Lockhaven, however, in spite of their hurry, the patrol runs into a problem: The map is out-of-date. The spring thaw has rearranged roads once again, and even just finding the path is a bit of a struggle.

It's important to reach Barkstone before dark, both because the roads are dangerous and because Barkstone is notoriously strict about late-night visitors, and so it is a problem when the mice find that the rope bridge leading towards Barkstone has been torn apart by flowing meltwaters. The wide stream rushes some three mouselengths below. Down in the current, the patrol can see the remnants of the bridge floundering about, mostly intact but entirely disconnected from the opposite shore's stalwart wooden post.

Obstacle: The "default" solution here is for one member of the patrol to swim across and repair the bridge for the others to use to cross. In this case, feel free to suggest alternative methods. There are just two basic rules: Generally, the mouse who comes up with an idea should be the one to carry it out (though this is just to prevent a group only ever letting the mouse with the best skill level use that skill), and once I give an obstacle rating, you have to go through with the attempt.

This is why I don't mention the exact skills used yet: Currently, we're just working out the solution the patrol uses. Once you have the solution, I'll give you the obstacle rating and tell you want to roll.

Spring worried Thom each and every year. His entire profession rested upon his ability to follow Maps, but the treachery of winter always gave him trouble, and this constantly made him feel like he was useless.

Studying his map carefully, he begins to fret. "This is a perilous situation, no doubt. I don't fancy myself a great swimmer, nor would I think myself the best at repairing that bridge - but this path between Barkstone and Pebblebrook is an important one; if we don't fix this, it'll end up as someone else's problem." Thom says to the others. He looks particularly to his Patrol Leader for a response. "So what do we do? It's possible I could find us another route, but this is not guaranteed and it'll likely keep us out in the wild past sundown."

"You know, I'm pretty quick! I could check up the stream while you check down, and I wager we'd still have enough time to repair the bridge if needed," Vivan offers. "Split up, and cover more ground?"

I'm cool with trying to repair the bridge if that's what we want to do, but scouting does play to Vivian's & Thom's strengths. :-)

George leaned over and looked at the dangling bridge splashing around in the rushing waters. He spat straight down in the water. Thank providence I remembered to bring rope he thought while turning towards the rest.
Well, I'm not a big fan of sleeping outside this close to the scent border. I'm not a great swimmer either, though I have an idea. He reached back and detached the coil of rope he always bore with him on forays and looks at both Thom and Vivian. Does anyone else have rope?