Welcome to The Redwatch, a story about mice with swords, the things that try to kill them, and how they refuse to die. It is essentially Redwall played by the rules of A Song of Ice and Fire, bolstering the world with cozy settings and loving descriptions of food and festivals, while still delving into the details of vicious animals killing mice while even more vicious politicking does essentially the same thing. The setting of The Redwatch is what you might call “low fantasy.” There is no magic, few if any traditional fantasy elements, and the world operates according to well-understood natural laws. The exception, of course, is that there are sapient mice, and they've established what amounts to a medieval society in the middle of a forest known as The Kingdoms of Gnaw.
The mice of Gnaw have created a quasi-military force -- the titular Redwatch -- to elevate themselves from their place at the bottom of the food chain and overcome the forces of nature. The Watch exists in an ambiguous social area somewhere between knights, Tolkien-esque rangers, and FEMA agents. They are thankless heroes who exist outside of mouse society to better serve it. When something has gone seriously wrong in the kingdoms and time is of the essence, members of the Watch are dispatched to put it right -- even at the cost of their lives.
Despite their technology and fledgling civilization, they're still mice: when you're three inches tall, a snake is a creeping horror out of Lovecraft, hawks are terrifying dragon-like predators, a swollen stream is a deadly impassable torrent, and a good storm can annihilate farms and wreak havoc on your communities. One of the core features of a world of mice is the sense of scale this should impart. You are playing small creatures in a huge and hostile world, but highly motivated ones. With swords.
The mice of Gnaw have created a quasi-military force -- the titular Redwatch -- to elevate themselves from their place at the bottom of the food chain and overcome the forces of nature. The Watch exists in an ambiguous social area somewhere between knights, Tolkien-esque rangers, and FEMA agents. They are thankless heroes who exist outside of mouse society to better serve it. When something has gone seriously wrong in the kingdoms and time is of the essence, members of the Watch are dispatched to put it right -- even at the cost of their lives.
Despite their technology and fledgling civilization, they're still mice: when you're three inches tall, a snake is a creeping horror out of Lovecraft, hawks are terrifying dragon-like predators, a swollen stream is a deadly impassable torrent, and a good storm can annihilate farms and wreak havoc on your communities. One of the core features of a world of mice is the sense of scale this should impart. You are playing small creatures in a huge and hostile world, but highly motivated ones. With swords.
The founding of Gnaw is one of the world's oldest mysteries, contested by sages, historians, and scholars throughout its domain, from Glendale's foggy ports to the furthest hillside keeps of Westercroft. Its earliest days are lost to history, as most mice do not think to ask of them. To the average mouse, Gnaw simply always has been, and that is all of an answer there need be. Regional monarchies insist their personal ancestral line raised the first castles, the pious preach that the kingdoms were made green and plentiful for mousekind by the Forest Spirit, and according to the accounts of rats and weasels, the Gnawer's Kingdom was once the Gnasher's Kingdom and was theirs by right. There are many accounts of Gnaw's founding by many different groups, with each of which coincidentally believe it to be theirs. The most well-read of the mice, such as those at the Sage's Lodge of Fogmount or Council of the Glen, all unanimously agree that the early vestiges of what would become the Kingdoms of Gnaw started as a far-scattered collection of burrows, gradually coming together to form hidden-away villages. This, of course, was in the Time before Times, when great black giants walked the lands and scattered stars in the sky, and flying snakes supposedly lived in castles in the clouds. Some say that the Time before Times has always existed, as a myth old mice tell their grandchildren to keep them by the fireside and out of the snow, and that the oldest tales of lore are simply myths. Some would argue that they were all literal, and that colossal mice truly did scatter the stars, spill the seas, and plant the stones in the beginning.
In the beginning, the true beginning, in the time long ago, mice were not yet mice. They were known as "Gnawers" by the creatures of the forest. Mice were prey. They were solitary creatures at the mercy of the elements and the seasons, holding meager territory only so long as something larger and less friendly didn't happen along, and could gather only enough food that it would not make them targets of other hungrier mice. They were timorous and jealous, shivering through rainy nights instead of giving away their location to the world with campfires, crafting slipshod escape tunnels to keep themselves safe instead of homes. Eventually, a group of mice came to the realization that their instinctive drives to flee from danger, steal their neighbor's food, and ensure their self-preservation at all costs would not allow their species, as a whole, to progress. Banding together, they carved out a hidden, defensible settlement into the face of a crimson rock wall and began bringing in mice who heard of their success, building a subterranean city within the red stone. Surrounded by impenetrable walls, garrisoned by a volunteer militia, and supplied by underground streams and deep granaries, the small mining settlement slowly grew into the most well-built fortress city of its time. They called it Redfort.
Over time, the mice of Redfort discovered that they were not the only mice to scratch out a civilization. Other communities had sprung up throughout the forests. Some called their collective lands "The Kingdom of Gnawers", while others preferred "The Kingdoms of Gnaw". Some simply assume "Gnaw" was the name of the lands because it was where Gnawers lived and left it at that. The villages and fortresses within the kingdom were smaller and less defensible than Redfort, but fiercely independent; They would never willingly incorporate into Redfort or abandon the expansive, if disconnected and weak kingdoms they had built. By their nature, mice are both clannish and skittish, which has been their biggest obstacle as a peoples -- Few speak up to build coalitions when their natures are telling them to hoard their resources, travel short and infrequent journeys, and live life with their head kept low. Accordingly, while Redfort grew into the stone, lesser strongholds were dispatched one by one. To some, this meant withering away after a year of famine, or entire populations scattering after war befell their town. To others, it was as simple as a particularly lucky snake finding a village and devouring the men, women, and children in a night. Eventually, only three major fortresses remained -- Redfort of Redfield, The Tall Tower of Westercroft, and Shellhold of Glendale. Within the scarlet halls of Redfort, this sparked a debate as to whether to leave the outsiders to their fates or bring them under Redfort's control by force for their own good. Eventually, they settled on using the strength of the city's militia to protect the kingdoms of Gnaw.
This militia blazed trails, patrolled the roads, delivered mail and supplies, fought off predators, and handled the backbone of creating the early infrastructure of Gnaw. They built stone outposts in every kingdom, which slowly became surrounded by mice eager to live near the strongholds of the militia without having to risk their lives by joining. Gradually, these keeps became castles, and the number of mice living near them became entire villages. However, more important than the villages they founded or the snakes they had butchered was the Spoorwall. the Redfort militia was responsible for its creation -- an invisible border around the kingdoms made of strong pheromones, repoured and reapplied every five years -- which has successfully kept snakes, wolves, foxes, and badgers from reentering the kingdoms ever since. Over time, mice far from the borders began to forget that foxes and wolves were not created by storytellers, or that mice had ever lived in anything but the warm, safe cottages their families had held for generations. Gnaw had become a thriving land, able to concern itself with frivolous matters such as the lineage of its rulers and upholding societal traditions instead of the apocalyptic threats they had once faced. Over time, the local militia of Redfort, which had built Gnaw from the ground up became The Redwatch -- a politically neutral group dedicated to continuing the work of Redfort's first militia; Protecting the denizens of Gnaw, keeping peace and order, and watching over mousekind.
In the beginning, the true beginning, in the time long ago, mice were not yet mice. They were known as "Gnawers" by the creatures of the forest. Mice were prey. They were solitary creatures at the mercy of the elements and the seasons, holding meager territory only so long as something larger and less friendly didn't happen along, and could gather only enough food that it would not make them targets of other hungrier mice. They were timorous and jealous, shivering through rainy nights instead of giving away their location to the world with campfires, crafting slipshod escape tunnels to keep themselves safe instead of homes. Eventually, a group of mice came to the realization that their instinctive drives to flee from danger, steal their neighbor's food, and ensure their self-preservation at all costs would not allow their species, as a whole, to progress. Banding together, they carved out a hidden, defensible settlement into the face of a crimson rock wall and began bringing in mice who heard of their success, building a subterranean city within the red stone. Surrounded by impenetrable walls, garrisoned by a volunteer militia, and supplied by underground streams and deep granaries, the small mining settlement slowly grew into the most well-built fortress city of its time. They called it Redfort.
Over time, the mice of Redfort discovered that they were not the only mice to scratch out a civilization. Other communities had sprung up throughout the forests. Some called their collective lands "The Kingdom of Gnawers", while others preferred "The Kingdoms of Gnaw". Some simply assume "Gnaw" was the name of the lands because it was where Gnawers lived and left it at that. The villages and fortresses within the kingdom were smaller and less defensible than Redfort, but fiercely independent; They would never willingly incorporate into Redfort or abandon the expansive, if disconnected and weak kingdoms they had built. By their nature, mice are both clannish and skittish, which has been their biggest obstacle as a peoples -- Few speak up to build coalitions when their natures are telling them to hoard their resources, travel short and infrequent journeys, and live life with their head kept low. Accordingly, while Redfort grew into the stone, lesser strongholds were dispatched one by one. To some, this meant withering away after a year of famine, or entire populations scattering after war befell their town. To others, it was as simple as a particularly lucky snake finding a village and devouring the men, women, and children in a night. Eventually, only three major fortresses remained -- Redfort of Redfield, The Tall Tower of Westercroft, and Shellhold of Glendale. Within the scarlet halls of Redfort, this sparked a debate as to whether to leave the outsiders to their fates or bring them under Redfort's control by force for their own good. Eventually, they settled on using the strength of the city's militia to protect the kingdoms of Gnaw.
This militia blazed trails, patrolled the roads, delivered mail and supplies, fought off predators, and handled the backbone of creating the early infrastructure of Gnaw. They built stone outposts in every kingdom, which slowly became surrounded by mice eager to live near the strongholds of the militia without having to risk their lives by joining. Gradually, these keeps became castles, and the number of mice living near them became entire villages. However, more important than the villages they founded or the snakes they had butchered was the Spoorwall. the Redfort militia was responsible for its creation -- an invisible border around the kingdoms made of strong pheromones, repoured and reapplied every five years -- which has successfully kept snakes, wolves, foxes, and badgers from reentering the kingdoms ever since. Over time, mice far from the borders began to forget that foxes and wolves were not created by storytellers, or that mice had ever lived in anything but the warm, safe cottages their families had held for generations. Gnaw had become a thriving land, able to concern itself with frivolous matters such as the lineage of its rulers and upholding societal traditions instead of the apocalyptic threats they had once faced. Over time, the local militia of Redfort, which had built Gnaw from the ground up became The Redwatch -- a politically neutral group dedicated to continuing the work of Redfort's first militia; Protecting the denizens of Gnaw, keeping peace and order, and watching over mousekind.
Named for the prevalence of dried leaves through its perpetually autumnal weather, Redfield's safety, wealth, and abundance of farmland has made it the most populous of the three kingdoms. As a result, its mice are typically the happiest, who may focus their attention on festivals, courting, and pursuing hobbies in addition to their lifelong trades. For this reason, Redfield is known for its many gardens, countryside markets, and cultured history. Its capital is Redfort, an ancient subterranean city which houses the Redwatch, a military order devoted to the protection of Gnaw. Redfield and the Redwatch are both ruled by a monarch chosen by their predecessor, as opposed to the traditional succession by lineage used by lords, barons, and other lower rulers. As a result, mice in other kingdoms, particularly during times of political tension, are less grateful for the presence of the Redwatch than those in Redfield.
Westercroft, named for being the westernmost kingdom, is both the largest and least populous of the Kingdoms of Gnaw. Cold and dry all year round, Westercroft is known for its many mountain ranges, and the progressively furrier, sturdier, and less mouselike their denizens become as you move west. They are a hearty people known for their hardworking, humorless natures, as well as their practice of sparrow husbandry. Their westernmost border is the only part of Gnaw not contained within the Spoorwall, known as "The Valley of Bones". Because they hold the line between Gnaw and snarling behemoths unaware of it, Redwatch's valley stronghold houses some of the watch's strongest warriors. Westercroft's capital is the Tall Tower, a hilltop keep that allows their king an all-encompassing view of his kingdom.
Glendale, also simply known as The Glen, is a kingdom situated in the southeast, where it is warmer and wetter as the year goes on. The mice of the Glen are svelte and oily, typically viewed as a crude and unking people for having grown up in the swamps, or simply farther between, less informed, and less educated than the mice of their neighboring kingdoms. The Glen is ruled by a group of ten elders called The Council of The Glen, which are elected by virtue of their intellect. They rule from Shellhold, a short, squat castle built on the back of a gigantic tortoise, which doubles as a moving capital. The mice of the Glen are typically fishermice, toadherds, or reed farmers. Because much of their soil is too muddy to build castles, they typically live in villages built into the many trees of Glendale.
I will protect Gnaw and its denizens with my life.
I will uphold the honored duties of the mice whose steps I walk in.
I will destroy the enemies of Gnaw, and defend her allies.
I will follow the order of the Redwatch into the very jaws of death.
Above all, I will watch.
I will uphold the honored duties of the mice whose steps I walk in.
I will destroy the enemies of Gnaw, and defend her allies.
I will follow the order of the Redwatch into the very jaws of death.
Above all, I will watch.
The Redwatch is the largest order within Gnaw, whose duties are described with their oath -- to protect, uphold, destroy, follow, and most importantly, to watch. It is overseen by a monarch who doubles as governor of the Redfort and ruler of Redfield. As the head of the only serious military force in Gnaw, Redfield's ruler -- currently Queen Gothlun -- something like the Secretary of Defense for the loose confederation of mouse city-states. By treaty, the Watch is the final authority in the wilderness between cities, and more like an order of patrolling knights within Redfield, but they have no more authority in Westercroft and Glendale than any other mouse, a fact they routinely ignore. The kingdoms are also supposed to help The Redfort supply the Watch, which has grown larger than any one city can support, though they aren't obligated.
The duties of the Watch mostly consist of traveling the wilderness while maintaining trails, keeping the roads safe, delivering mail, scouting for natural dangers like predators or dangerous weather and less natural dangers like incursions from rats. Since the Redwatch is ostensibly neutral, watchmice are also expected to act as mediators in disputes between kingdoms, villages and sometimes between individual mice. Finally, the Watch maintains the Spoorwall, a miracle of mouse science which keeps most large predators like wolves and foxes out of Gnaw.
The final tenet of their oath, to watch, is a major theme within the Redwatch and the story. Watchers are meant to watch. This usually correlates to scouting missions, in that mice who do not closely observe their surroundings and situations they enter can easily be killed. Additionally, the Watchers cannot act in many situations, such as the mediation of disputes in kingdoms where they do not hold authority. They are resigned to non-interventionist policies in Westercroft and The Glen. Finally, the need for Watchers to watch is reflected in their thankless protection of Gnaw. They do not protect Gnaw within its societies, but on their edges, watching over the kingdoms.
The duties of the Watch mostly consist of traveling the wilderness while maintaining trails, keeping the roads safe, delivering mail, scouting for natural dangers like predators or dangerous weather and less natural dangers like incursions from rats. Since the Redwatch is ostensibly neutral, watchmice are also expected to act as mediators in disputes between kingdoms, villages and sometimes between individual mice. Finally, the Watch maintains the Spoorwall, a miracle of mouse science which keeps most large predators like wolves and foxes out of Gnaw.
The final tenet of their oath, to watch, is a major theme within the Redwatch and the story. Watchers are meant to watch. This usually correlates to scouting missions, in that mice who do not closely observe their surroundings and situations they enter can easily be killed. Additionally, the Watchers cannot act in many situations, such as the mediation of disputes in kingdoms where they do not hold authority. They are resigned to non-interventionist policies in Westercroft and The Glen. Finally, the need for Watchers to watch is reflected in their thankless protection of Gnaw. They do not protect Gnaw within its societies, but on their edges, watching over the kingdoms.
Mice
The smartest, most advanced sentient species. Their greatest achievements are glasswork, iron, sewer systems, chemistry, the loom, and a mastery of fire. Mice typically live to be 60, shorter if they are lowborn and longer if they are highborn.
Shrews
The most common non-mouse species in Gnaw, Shrews are second-class citizens who can only rent homes for work, which they mostly find cooking, cleaning, or performing construction alongside mice. Many cut off their furry tails to claim to be mice, leading to a stigma of suspicion against tailless mice. Many subvert Gnaw's immigration laws by living year-round in Gnaw's forests in impermanent gatherings such as tents and caravans.
Voles
Little is known about voles, due to their language barrier and unintelligible accents. Born with names like Glyndŵr and Gruffudd, Voles typically keep to themselves when they pass through Gnaw. Their settlements are scattered subterranean villages past Westercroft's Spoorwall, which are routinely flooded or dug up by predators. Many Voles work in Glendale as sailors-for-hire and itinerant workers.
Moles
A cousin of the Vole, Moles are a bronze-age civilization far past the edge of Westercroft, where they claim to live in cities deep beneath the Earth to avoid predators. They are known for being a mathematically gifted people, especially concerning their economics -- Moles are an extraordinarily mercantile people, going as far as to bid on the bodies of their loved ones at funerals to pay for funeral rights, paying hundreds of tiny "fees" at businesses such as the use of cups and napkins, and having holidays based on fiscal quarters. It is a mole custom to leave a small tip in a doorside bucket as soon as you enter one's home.
Rats
A stone age peoples with a brutal, primal society, who live short, savage lives. Their afterlife being supposedly reserved for warriors who die the most gruesome deaths, many rats ingest Bloodspore before battle, a mushroom that grants them a minute-long fit of blind rage and strength before their brains begin to hemorrhage. Their only art form is the playing of a vuvuzela-like instrument used in long-term raids and sieges to deny opponents sleep, and their only alphabet is a crude form of hieroglyphics used to denote property and insult one another at a distance. They typically eat mice, though they are not above to enslaving them for a source of food, labor, or leather.
Weasels
A believed cousin of the Rat, who wield bronze weapons and armor, and fight with forethought and tactics. They ride opossums, wield spears and swords at a short range and javelins at a long rage, and frequently employ poisons and decoys. Aside from eating and enslaving mice, Weasels typically attack the northeastern tip of Westercroft, far from the Valley of Bones, where they have slowly pushed the borders of Gnaw back over centuries.
Squirrels
It is unknown whether squirrels create goods, or simply take them from mice, rats, and weasels. They are typically solitary and wield no weapons, using their lightning-quick speed and daggerlike claws to effortlessly rend mice to pieces. When they band together, it is typically to raid entire storehouses, where they then divide their spoils and go their separate ways. Many Squirrels claim to have a connection to the trees not shared with the Gnashers, though this is believed to be a superstition by Mice.
Hamsters
Hamsters come from a desert kingdom thousands of miles away they call the Caliphate of Ham, and come to Gnaw once every few years during their travels to trade. They bring goods such as incense, exotic woods, teas and spices, elaborate puzzles and jewelry, tropical fruits, and poppies. They claim their society is kept safe from predators with mile-high walls, though they are the frequent subject of raids during their travel, which they mitigate with a martial tradition of archery.
Guinea Pigs
A cousin of the Hamster and second class citizen within the Caliphate of Ham, Guinea Pigs are typically trading partners with Hamsters, carrying goods and hamsters on their back during travels in exchange for a percentage of sales. They are a slow, simple people, who many claim would devolve into a non-sentient species were it not for the Hamster.
Turtles
Beasts of burden used by Mice, who typically pull their carts, plow their fields, and assist the uprooting and processing of their crops. When they die, their shells are used to make some of the sturdiest rooftops and boats used in Gnaw.
Lizards
A predator species, typically preying on domestic insect colonies and young mice. Some mice, particularly the foolhardy swamp-mice who live alongside the reptiles, have taken to riding them. Those who accomplish this do so in order to ride them up trees, along walls, and across ceilings.
Toads
A beast of burden used primarily in Glendale, either as a cheap mount, source of meat or leather, or to keep away insects.
Badgers, Porcupines, Raccoons, Lynxes, Foxes, Wolves, Snakes, Wolverines, Fisher Cats, Birds of Prey
Various flavors of ragons.
Bears, Moose
Kaiju.
Beavers
Arguably non-sentient, nonverbal creatures. They live in the part of south Glendale that meets Redfield. One Watch journal describes being caught stealing from a beaver dam by a beaver, who noticed the Watchmouse but didn't seem to care, or particularly understand. They live in crude wooden forts, and have no material goods but hats fashioned from grass, which seem to be their sole currency as well.
The smartest, most advanced sentient species. Their greatest achievements are glasswork, iron, sewer systems, chemistry, the loom, and a mastery of fire. Mice typically live to be 60, shorter if they are lowborn and longer if they are highborn.
Shrews
The most common non-mouse species in Gnaw, Shrews are second-class citizens who can only rent homes for work, which they mostly find cooking, cleaning, or performing construction alongside mice. Many cut off their furry tails to claim to be mice, leading to a stigma of suspicion against tailless mice. Many subvert Gnaw's immigration laws by living year-round in Gnaw's forests in impermanent gatherings such as tents and caravans.
Voles
Little is known about voles, due to their language barrier and unintelligible accents. Born with names like Glyndŵr and Gruffudd, Voles typically keep to themselves when they pass through Gnaw. Their settlements are scattered subterranean villages past Westercroft's Spoorwall, which are routinely flooded or dug up by predators. Many Voles work in Glendale as sailors-for-hire and itinerant workers.
Moles
A cousin of the Vole, Moles are a bronze-age civilization far past the edge of Westercroft, where they claim to live in cities deep beneath the Earth to avoid predators. They are known for being a mathematically gifted people, especially concerning their economics -- Moles are an extraordinarily mercantile people, going as far as to bid on the bodies of their loved ones at funerals to pay for funeral rights, paying hundreds of tiny "fees" at businesses such as the use of cups and napkins, and having holidays based on fiscal quarters. It is a mole custom to leave a small tip in a doorside bucket as soon as you enter one's home.
Rats
A stone age peoples with a brutal, primal society, who live short, savage lives. Their afterlife being supposedly reserved for warriors who die the most gruesome deaths, many rats ingest Bloodspore before battle, a mushroom that grants them a minute-long fit of blind rage and strength before their brains begin to hemorrhage. Their only art form is the playing of a vuvuzela-like instrument used in long-term raids and sieges to deny opponents sleep, and their only alphabet is a crude form of hieroglyphics used to denote property and insult one another at a distance. They typically eat mice, though they are not above to enslaving them for a source of food, labor, or leather.
Weasels
A believed cousin of the Rat, who wield bronze weapons and armor, and fight with forethought and tactics. They ride opossums, wield spears and swords at a short range and javelins at a long rage, and frequently employ poisons and decoys. Aside from eating and enslaving mice, Weasels typically attack the northeastern tip of Westercroft, far from the Valley of Bones, where they have slowly pushed the borders of Gnaw back over centuries.
Squirrels
It is unknown whether squirrels create goods, or simply take them from mice, rats, and weasels. They are typically solitary and wield no weapons, using their lightning-quick speed and daggerlike claws to effortlessly rend mice to pieces. When they band together, it is typically to raid entire storehouses, where they then divide their spoils and go their separate ways. Many Squirrels claim to have a connection to the trees not shared with the Gnashers, though this is believed to be a superstition by Mice.
Hamsters
Hamsters come from a desert kingdom thousands of miles away they call the Caliphate of Ham, and come to Gnaw once every few years during their travels to trade. They bring goods such as incense, exotic woods, teas and spices, elaborate puzzles and jewelry, tropical fruits, and poppies. They claim their society is kept safe from predators with mile-high walls, though they are the frequent subject of raids during their travel, which they mitigate with a martial tradition of archery.
Guinea Pigs
A cousin of the Hamster and second class citizen within the Caliphate of Ham, Guinea Pigs are typically trading partners with Hamsters, carrying goods and hamsters on their back during travels in exchange for a percentage of sales. They are a slow, simple people, who many claim would devolve into a non-sentient species were it not for the Hamster.
Turtles
Beasts of burden used by Mice, who typically pull their carts, plow their fields, and assist the uprooting and processing of their crops. When they die, their shells are used to make some of the sturdiest rooftops and boats used in Gnaw.
Lizards
A predator species, typically preying on domestic insect colonies and young mice. Some mice, particularly the foolhardy swamp-mice who live alongside the reptiles, have taken to riding them. Those who accomplish this do so in order to ride them up trees, along walls, and across ceilings.
Toads
A beast of burden used primarily in Glendale, either as a cheap mount, source of meat or leather, or to keep away insects.
Badgers, Porcupines, Raccoons, Lynxes, Foxes, Wolves, Snakes, Wolverines, Fisher Cats, Birds of Prey
Various flavors of ragons.
Bears, Moose
Kaiju.
Beavers
Arguably non-sentient, nonverbal creatures. They live in the part of south Glendale that meets Redfield. One Watch journal describes being caught stealing from a beaver dam by a beaver, who noticed the Watchmouse but didn't seem to care, or particularly understand. They live in crude wooden forts, and have no material goods but hats fashioned from grass, which seem to be their sole currency as well.
Do mice wear clothes?
No. Mice wear clothes depending on their needs, particularly the needs of their occupation. Bakers, butchers, and blacksmiths all wear aprons to keep their trade's respective gunk off of their fur. Kings wear crowns to let people know they're king. Farming mice wear long-brimmed hats to keep their ears from being burnt by the sun. Regular mice, which make up most of the world, are entirely naked, or wear a single piece of clothing they call their own. Aside from their compulsory red armband, members of the watch buy and wear armor depending on their needs -- Most don't because it's heavy. The closest thing mice have to a concept of nakedness is being hairless.
Can other animals talk?
Yes, but they do not speak the same language and have varying degrees of sentience. Shrews, voles, hedgehogs, hamsters, and moles can generally speak the Mouse tongue, while some even temporarily live within the Gnawer's Kingdom as merchants, ambassadors, or translators. Rats, weasels, and squirrels generally do not speak the mouse tongue, and are culturally analogous to either vikings or mongolians in that they are feared for their raids as they are unaffected by the Spoorwall.
What do the mice eat?
Medieval food, but pescatarian variants. They're big into pasties, pies, potatoes, berries, vegetables, that sort of thing. They brew ales, ferment wine, and get cheese from pasteurized milkweed sap. Don't question it. Some mice eat meat, but it's viewed similarly to if you saw a dude chowing down on some bugs, because the only meat mice hunt or farm is bugs. Glendale has frogs and lizards, but they're kind of chewy.
How advanced is mice civilization? How about other civilizations?
Gnawers (Mice, voles, moles, hedgehogs, hamsters, and shrews) are essentially medieval. They have metal because they mine, fabric made on looms, and cottages and castles instead of burrows. The poorest mice are serfs, the richest are kings, and so on. Aside from the existence of class divisions, there are vague social divisions -- Black mice are superstitiously seen as unlucky, red or white mice are seen as attractive, while the common brown and grey mice make up the bulk of the population. Predators (Wolves, foxes, wolverines, badgers, etc.) are wild animals, whereas Gnashers (Weasels, Rats, Squirrels) are bronze-age savages who typically use stolen mouse tools.
Is the Redwatch good or bad?
I like to focus on social questions in RPs, and this RPs question is "Do we need the Redwatch?" which I'm sure civilians all across the kingdoms ask too. The Redwatch is a fundamental part of Gnaw's early history, which definitely has -- or at least started with -- noble intentions, but consider the following; Kingdoms have rulers, laws, and are self-governing. The Redwatch, while technically being a politically neutral group, is strongly tied to the government of one kingdom, while maintaining outposts in other kingdoms. Additionally, the Redwatch has full clearance to act as judge, jury, and executioner while on missions, and is frequently used by the monarch of Redfield for political means. Are we members of a noble guild of rangers, or the soldiers of a kingdom occupying foreign lands? Ultimately, I'm not here to answer those questions, I just want to ask them. I'd like you, and the story you help write, answer that question in your own way.
What the fuck is the Spoorwall? How do you repour a border? What?
In short -- The mice developed a cologne that smells like an impossibly large, scary predator. Everything with a predator drive (larger critters) is deeply afraid of the smell and avoids the borders of the kingdoms at all times. The mice basically repaint it on the ground and on trees along their kingdom's border every five years. It gives mice anxiety to even smell, and is definitely toxic to drink. It doesn't ward off rats, squirrels, or weasels, because they're more intelligent than larger animals, which are essentially unchanged from their real-world versions.
Humans?
No.
No. Mice wear clothes depending on their needs, particularly the needs of their occupation. Bakers, butchers, and blacksmiths all wear aprons to keep their trade's respective gunk off of their fur. Kings wear crowns to let people know they're king. Farming mice wear long-brimmed hats to keep their ears from being burnt by the sun. Regular mice, which make up most of the world, are entirely naked, or wear a single piece of clothing they call their own. Aside from their compulsory red armband, members of the watch buy and wear armor depending on their needs -- Most don't because it's heavy. The closest thing mice have to a concept of nakedness is being hairless.
Can other animals talk?
Yes, but they do not speak the same language and have varying degrees of sentience. Shrews, voles, hedgehogs, hamsters, and moles can generally speak the Mouse tongue, while some even temporarily live within the Gnawer's Kingdom as merchants, ambassadors, or translators. Rats, weasels, and squirrels generally do not speak the mouse tongue, and are culturally analogous to either vikings or mongolians in that they are feared for their raids as they are unaffected by the Spoorwall.
What do the mice eat?
Medieval food, but pescatarian variants. They're big into pasties, pies, potatoes, berries, vegetables, that sort of thing. They brew ales, ferment wine, and get cheese from pasteurized milkweed sap. Don't question it. Some mice eat meat, but it's viewed similarly to if you saw a dude chowing down on some bugs, because the only meat mice hunt or farm is bugs. Glendale has frogs and lizards, but they're kind of chewy.
How advanced is mice civilization? How about other civilizations?
Gnawers (Mice, voles, moles, hedgehogs, hamsters, and shrews) are essentially medieval. They have metal because they mine, fabric made on looms, and cottages and castles instead of burrows. The poorest mice are serfs, the richest are kings, and so on. Aside from the existence of class divisions, there are vague social divisions -- Black mice are superstitiously seen as unlucky, red or white mice are seen as attractive, while the common brown and grey mice make up the bulk of the population. Predators (Wolves, foxes, wolverines, badgers, etc.) are wild animals, whereas Gnashers (Weasels, Rats, Squirrels) are bronze-age savages who typically use stolen mouse tools.
Is the Redwatch good or bad?
I like to focus on social questions in RPs, and this RPs question is "Do we need the Redwatch?" which I'm sure civilians all across the kingdoms ask too. The Redwatch is a fundamental part of Gnaw's early history, which definitely has -- or at least started with -- noble intentions, but consider the following; Kingdoms have rulers, laws, and are self-governing. The Redwatch, while technically being a politically neutral group, is strongly tied to the government of one kingdom, while maintaining outposts in other kingdoms. Additionally, the Redwatch has full clearance to act as judge, jury, and executioner while on missions, and is frequently used by the monarch of Redfield for political means. Are we members of a noble guild of rangers, or the soldiers of a kingdom occupying foreign lands? Ultimately, I'm not here to answer those questions, I just want to ask them. I'd like you, and the story you help write, answer that question in your own way.
What the fuck is the Spoorwall? How do you repour a border? What?
In short -- The mice developed a cologne that smells like an impossibly large, scary predator. Everything with a predator drive (larger critters) is deeply afraid of the smell and avoids the borders of the kingdoms at all times. The mice basically repaint it on the ground and on trees along their kingdom's border every five years. It gives mice anxiety to even smell, and is definitely toxic to drink. It doesn't ward off rats, squirrels, or weasels, because they're more intelligent than larger animals, which are essentially unchanged from their real-world versions.
Humans?
No.
This half of the character sheet will serve as an application so I can see if I want to write with you for months on end. It sounds harsher than it is. Anyway, you know how to write an application, so have at it. No pictures because it's unlikely we'll find matching styles. Also, feel free to play with the formatting, but don't add too much.
[center][color=Textcolorhere]"This is where your "Belief" goes. Beliefs need to be clear, powerful statements with a potential for conflict. “The Watch is good” is a bad belief, but “The mice of Gnaw must know that the Watch is good and must be supported” is pretty hot. Beliefs tell the other players (And me, the GM) what you're interested in and want to explore in the game. Someone who writes the belief “A Watcher thinks with their head and acts with their heart” wants situations in which they can be clever and compassionate, and possibly ones in which cleverness and compassion are set at odds with one another.[/color][/center]
Name: Mice names are either Anglo-Saxon, such as Archibald, Cecil, or Patton, or derived from nature, such as Rowan, Jasper, or Dawn. Instead of surnames, Mice generally go with "Of Hometownhere", unless there is something immediately outstanding about them (Physical deformities, infamous deeds, important ancestry, etc.) in which case, they get respective surnames. Feel free to go with locations already mentioned or create a new one, just try to follow the naming conventions I'm using.
Rank: Your rank within the Redwatch. The first rank is [i]Greenband[/i], which are recruits who wouldn't be trusted to tie their own boots if mice wore boots. They wear green armbands and generally only go on missions to act as squires for Watchers, cleaning armor, carrying weapons, and cooking meals. The second rank is [i]Watcher[/i], which make up the vast majority of the Redwatch. They vary in skill, but are all competent warriors. The third rank is [i]Watchguard[/i], a rank given to mice who wield a level of authority over members of the Redwatch. They typically lead parties. The fourth is [i]Watch Captain[/i], of which there are only a few dozen. They get the most important missions, and you are not one.
Appearance: Mice don't accessorize a whole lot, but the Redwatch wear colored cloaks chosen by the mentor who taught them, presented when they graduated from Greenband to Watcher. The mentor picks the color to represent some aspect of their student. Those whose mentors die before their graduation receive white cloaks. Nobody gets black cloaks, firstly because it would be an insult, and secondly because it attracts edgy mice applications.
Personality: You've written a CS before.
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