The War in the Willows

Thomas.

Thomas ran alongside Maverick, his shell bouncing with enthusiasm. “Hah! Did you see that, Max?! I executed the route with optimal efficiency, down to the millisecond.”

Maverick chuckled, maintaining a casual walking pace. “Looking good, Tom. You’re moving.”

Thomas’s face was set in a mask of concentration. “I was like a… a finely tuned…snail. I did it, Mav.”

Maverick’s grin was approving. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. We’re almost at the Den.”

Thomas puffed out his chest, still powering along. “I’ll go over the accounts when we get back.”

He stopped in front of the Den entrance, breathing controlled breaths. Morrigan, lounging in the doorway, raised an eyebrow. “Three minutes twenty-four. Three seconds faster this time.”

Thomas met his gaze, his expression meticulous. “I’ve improved my time. I’ll do it again.”

____________________

Bramble confronts the Rabbits

Bramble stormed towards the Temple of Light, anger simmering in her chest. Those rabbits had “pampered” Maximiliano, and she wasn’t about to let them off easy.

As she approached the tranquil gardens, something shifted. The scent of blooming flowers wafted through the air, and Bramble’s jaw unclenched. Her steps slowed, her anger dissipating like mist in the sun.

The rabbits, tending to their sacred blooms, looked up. Their gentle, round faces and soft eyes soothed Bramble’s lingering irritation. One rabbit offered a gentle smile, beckoning her closer.

“Welcome, young one. How may we serve the Light?”

Bramble’s gaze drifted to the temple’s serene interior. Her voice came out softer. “I… I was looking for answers. About Maximiliano.”

The rabbits exchanged knowing looks. “Ah. Come, rest awhile. Let us share tea.”

The rabbits ushered Bramble into the temple’s warm, golden light. They brewed fragrant tea, and Bramble found herself pouring out her concerns about Maximiliano’s “pampering”. The rabbits listened, nodding gently.

As the tea flowed, Bramble’s defences crumbled. The rabbits spoke of balance, of healing, of the Light’s whispers guiding them.

Bramble’s heart softened. These rabbits weren’t villains; they were caregivers. Maximiliano’s scars weren’t just physical – he uses his charisma as a shield, a way to keep people at arm’s length. To avoid vulnerability.

One rabbit patted her hand. “The Light seeks balance. Maximiliano’s path is his own. Ours is to soothe the wounds and to be here to listen.”

Bramble’s eyes widened. “You’re… you’re on our side?”

The lead rabbit smiled. “We serve the Light. The Necromouser threatens balance. We will help you stop him.”

____________________

Scavenging for Pennies

Maximiliano slipped into the abandoned den, his eyes scanning the chaos. Papers were strewn everywhere, shelves were overturned, and the air was thick with the scent of stale magic.

“Hmm,” he muttered, a mischievous glint in his eye. If the place had already been ransacked, who’d notice a bit more chaos?

He widened his search, rifling through drawers and tossing aside debris. His fingers brushed against a few scattered coins.

“Score,” he whispered, pocketing the pennies. Not much, but it’d buy a round of grog at the Rusty Nail.

With nothing else of interest turning up, Maximiliano slipped back out into the shadows, grinning. The Misfits’ coffers could use the boost.

____________________

The Old Mine.

Zut alors! Phillipe’s eyes adjusted to the dim light as he descended into the old mineshaft, the air thick with dust and forgotten secrets, no? He stumbled upon a large wooden crate, half-buried in rubble, its iron bands creaking as he pried it open, oui?

Inside, an ornate wooden staff, some loose nails and several hefty bags of coin lay nestled beside it. Phillipe’s grin spread as he scooped up the loot, stuffing the bags into his pockets with a flourish.

“Ah, voilà! Ze jackpot, no?” he whispered, blowing dust off the intricately carved stick. “Neville, she will be delighted, zis.”

He examined the stick, eyes widening at the arcane scribbles. “Ah, magie, bébé. We are in business, zis.”

Phillipe slung the stick over his satchel, whistling as he climbed back out. “Ze Misfits, zey are about to get a whole lot more… intéressant.”

____________________

The Fishing Trip

Neville skipped along the riverbank, twirling a stick like a sword, the sun shining bright in his eyes. He wasn’t there for fishing, like he’d told the others– he was there for adventure!

As he rounded a bend, a wrecked ship loomed, its wooden hull cracked and splintered. Neville’s grin widened. “Ahoy, matey!”

He charged forward, stick-sword at the ready. “Arrr, I’ll be plunderin’ this here ship!” Leaping over driftwood, he poked around the wreckage.

His sword slipped into the mud, unearthing a wooden box. It lay open, spilling pennies and coins.

“Arr! Treasure!” Neville squealed, dropping his pirate persona. He crouched, scooping up the coins, his eyes sparkling.

The Accounts

Thomas sat, ledger open, quill scratching away. Maverick leaned against the wall, Bramble lounging on the sofa beside him.

“Alright, so finances are looking good,” Thomas summarised. “Lucky finds, Phillipe’s tavern gig… we’re set for a while.”

Bramble nodded. “Nice work, Phillipe.”

Phillipe, in the corner, muttered to himself, ” Oui, I am ze greatest entertainer, no?” He practised a flamboyant bow.

Maverick chuckled. “As long as he keeps the food coming.”

Thomas grinned. “Free grub for life. I’m in.”

Phillipe cleared his throat, striking a pose. “Ah, bonjour, ze lovely patrons! Ze Misfits, zey are ze best, no?”

Bramble sat up, a spark in her eye. “We could use some new blood. The market’s notice board’s got all sorts of postings – mercenaries looking for gigs, adventurers seeking crews…”

Maverick nodded. “Worth a shot. We could use some fresh faces.”

Thomas nodded, “We should check it out.”

Phillipe, still practising his accent in the corner, piped up. “Zut, I shall charm ze recruits, no?”

Thomas added. “We should harvest some of the new herbs and sell them at the market. Get some extra coin.”

_

Maverick pushed open the garden gate, Thomas following. As they rounded a row of plants, wisps of sweet smoke curled up from behind a wheelbarrow.

Maverick raised an eyebrow. “Uh… what’s going on here?”

Neville and Morrigan, hidden behind the wheelbarrow, looked up with glazed eyes. Neville giggled. “Hehe… experimenting… with… uh… herbal… science.”

Thomas blinked. “You mean you’re smoking our profits.”

Morrigan exhaled a lazy plume of smoke. “Prof… it… stuff…”

Maverick facepalmed. “Neville…”

____________________

Bramble leaned against the sun-warmed notice board in Cedarwood’s market square, scanning the pinned-up flyers for guild news and wanted posters. Her eyes landed on a parchment advertising the upcoming archery competition – the one she had planned to enter before all this Necromouser nonsense started.

“Hey, you looking to join the fun?” a soft voice asked. Bramble turned to find two foxes grinning at her. One wore scarlet – William – and the other a softer rose hue, Rose. Both carried bows and looked like they’d rather shoot arrows than eat breakfast.

“Archery comp?” Bramble nodded, tapping the flyer. “Might be.”

William leaned in. “We’re entering too. Cedarwood’s got a tough rep for hosting. You with a guild?”

Bramble’s expression turned mischievous. “The Misfits. We’re… eclectic.”

Rose’s ears perked. “The Misfits? Heard stories in the tavern.”

Bramble’s smile grew. “Looking to beef up our ranks. You two looking for a new gig?”

William and Rose exchanged a look, their tails twitching in sync. “Depends on the gig,” William said. “What’s the Misfits’ play? You guys more than just a ragtag crew?”

Bramble leaned in, a conspiratorial glare in her eye. “We’re tracking the Necromouser.”

Rose’s ears perked up, her expression intrigued. “The Necromouser? As in, the one who –”

Bramble nodded. “The one who thinks he can raise the dead and rule the Forest. We’re going to stop him.”

William grinned, “Sounds like a blast. We’re in.”

Rose nodded emphatically. “We’re decent with a bow.”

______________________________

And what was all that about?

Thomas rolled for his skill advancement and, thanks to the library at the Den, was able to choose any stat increase.  I really wanted to improve his combat prowess as he is a bit of a tank in that regard, however he had just made the sprint of his life getting the treasure chest off the table, and it was just too good an opportunity to miss to not increase his movement.   He is still one of the slowest members of the gang, but at least he can now almost keep up.

The chest had a chance to net me a magical item, my first of this campaign, even if I rolled badly, I would get some much-needed information points.  As it turned out, I rolled too low for a magic item and too high for information points.  Instead, I got extra pennies, which are always useful, I guess.

Still on a mission to get some decent equipment, it is starting to feel like I’m the only person yet to score some funky stuff. I sent my creatures on very dangerous trips into the wilds.  I think because in recent games I have been hit by things with massive bonuses like +11 to the rolls, I felt I needed to take the risk.  Travelling into the wilds is a high risk – high reward kind of thing.

Anyway, I had fate points in the bag with everyone I sent out that could be used to a degree to possibly mitigate some risk.

As it was I was pretty lucky to have those fate points and with a couple of re-rolls here and there got some pretty good locations to check out.

A sunken ship with lots of pennies and the chance of a magic item – which of course I also failed to get.

An abandoned mine with heaps of stuff and a chance of a magic item – which I finally got.  Turns out to be a magical staff that will help Neville with casting rolls, with a little bit of risk to himself if he fumbles.  I initially thought I had got the magic book, which would have allowed me access to all the spells and would have been fantastic, alas, I was reading the wrong paragraph, the staff is also pretty good though, so I can’t complain.

Bramble got a free experience upgrade, which is awesome.

Maximilliano, found a den with a mere handful of coins in it.

My roll for extra pennies for the herb garden was also low.  I rolled a total of 3 on 2d6, so I figured that Neville had tried smoking the thyme leaves.  I mean, he has already been involved with Burglary, Arson, visiting what was alluded to as a house of ill repute, but could also be a massage parlour run by therapists.  So, one more thing to add to his rap sheet was nothing.

By the end of all the rolling I had a rather decent number of pennies in the bank.

I considered adding a massive hound or badger to the roster, but it would really go against Maverick’s character to have anything bigger than him in the gang.  I could really do with the extra muscle as Maverick is really taking on everything on his own at the moment.  Phillipe has only managed to hit once in 6 games!  Thomas is pretty reliable, although it takes him a long time to get there.

So, I promptly added two more non-melee characters to the roster. Why, what was I thinking?

I think at this point I am facing this from a story point of view, and also looking at the models I have to hand.  In addition to that, female characters are a bit underrepresented in my warband, so it was a good opportunity to add another, not that females are not equal at melee, rather I had Fox armed with a bow that looked feminine or at least more so than the other models I had unpainted.

In hindsight, I could have made Morrigan female from the start, but I didn’t.

So, those are my ramblings for now.  I will try to do an update on each character in the near future, as they have evolved a lot since they started.

I have absolutely no idea where this story is going. I suspect that at some point, things will take a turn one way or the other.  I really don’t want to lose any of my characters now.  I have become really attached to them all, and I feel they each have so much more to give.