Mouse Guard: Role Playing Game

Wow…the response to our Mouse Guard Role Playing Game contest was amazing!  You guys really came up with some wonderful ideas – so wonderful, in fact, that I’m really debating if one prize was indeed enough.  After all, everyone put on their creative hats and really did a spectacular job with new characters.  Alas, there had to be a winner, and you can find out who it is after the jump!

And the winner is….IVAN EWERT!!!!! The drawing was completely random, and Ivan actually had one of the more unique entries, a ballad in the spirit of Mouse Guard…

Thorn of Thrush’s Stone

(Being a traditional ballad of Thrush’s Stone, a small rural community at the border.)

Thorn was birthed in Thrush’s Stone,
Took up toy wooden swords,
Swore he’d age to join the Guard
‘Gainst wild weasel hordes.

Nightfall came to Thrush’s Stone,
On silent wing of swan,
Young Thorn the bold was bid a-bed
As night came ever on.

Weasels came to Thrush’s Stone,
Bore steel, pitch and tar,
Slew the slumb’ring sentry there –
Thorn woke ‘mong flaming stars.

Thorn cried aloud through Thrush’s Stone,
After his kith and kind,
That silence – save the crackling flames,
Set fire to Thorn’s mind.

“Anger! Vengeance! Thrush’s Stone!”
From high window he leapt,
Took only his toy wooden sword
Whence wild weasel crept.

In the burning streets of Thrush’s Stone,
Thorn came across his prey,
Young mouse’s toy a cudgel now,
To bash in weasel brains!

(loud Huzzahs! are traditional here.)

That first of foes in Thrush’s Stone,
True steel gave to Thorn,
No pride in paltry, plunder’d sword
But a way to wind toward war.

Throughout that night in Thrush’s Stone,
Thorn sought alone his prey,
With burning mind he met and fell
Five weasels ere the day.

Have you returned to Thrush’s Stone?
They’ll sing in tavern yards,
How Burn-ed Thorn, of Thrush’s Stone
First earned the title Guard!

Mouse Guard: Fall 1152You don’t really think that’s it though, do you?  You know I never give away one prize…I’m too much of a sucker for that kinda stuff – I hate disappointing people.  So….DAN K and Runester…congrats!  You didn’t win a copy of the Role Playing Game, but you have won a SOFTCOVER EDITION OF MOUSE GUARD: FALL 1152, the great series that introduced us to the Guard!  (If you already have this, please let me know).

Here’s DAN K’s entry, a unique tale of the Mouse Guard of the future that I really dug:

Page 1 is divided into 3 wide horizontal panels.

Panel 1: A black-furred mouse in an orange jumpsuit stands next to a roundish gray fighter jet. We can see the feet of another mouse lying underneath the fighter.

Standing mouse: “Well, can you save it, or am I going to be stuck waiting in here while the Weasels-”

A loud *Clank* comes from underneath the fighter.

Panel 2: A view of the mouse underneath the fighter. He has white fur and a red jumpsuit. There are grease stains on his paws and face. He holds a wrench in one paw and reaching up into the guts of the machine with the other.

Mechanic mouse: “Do you really think I’d miss a chance to get you incinerated? She’s almost good to go.”

Panel 3: Looking down from above the black pilot’s head as the white mechanic slides out on his back from underneath the fighter.

Mechanic mouse: “There. Hop in. And try not to get yourself killed too badly.”

Page 2 is one large panel. It’s a shot from space, as the fighter flies out of an opening in the side of the battleship. At the bottom of the page is a large logo:

Fall 3152

And here’s runester‘s entry, the tale of Little Poppy Peppercorn.

Little Poppy Peppercorn was always considered too small to join the Mouse Guard. While he looked on with envy at his friends, as they went off to train and earn their colorful capes – he had to stay at home and apprentice himself and learn a practical trade.

Little Poppy Peppercorn wasn’t big and strong enough to be a blacksmith, or patient enough to be a potter. Nor could he stand the smells coming from the tanner’s hut or the heat from the glass blowers furnace. No one really knew what Little Poppy Peppercorn could do, for his part in the mouse community.

But, he loved telling stories … especially stories about the brave Mouse Guard and their sharp swords going snicker snack as they defeated fearsome monsters with nary a thought to their own safety and always a flourish of their capes. The other mice liked hearing these stories, as it gave them a chance to rest from their hard labors. The muscle sore blacksmith and hand sore potter both sat together and listened with amusement as Little Poppy Peppercorn leapt about, telling the latest exploits of his friends with the greatest of enthusiasm and flare. The sweat covered tanner and the soot covered glass blower both watched on, wide eyed as he told of the Mouse Guards harrowing feats … pausing … for … dramatic … effect!

Finally, even the returning Mouse Guard, many nursing injuries or just on furlough sat with the others and listened to the tales of Little Poppy Peppercorn – amused at seeing something of themselves in his stories, even if the facts weren’t always right and the monsters hadn’t been quite as large as they remembered. Everyone sat together and listened and laughed and cringed and held their breath and cried as the stories were unfolded around them. And so, a decision was made and a place for Little Poppy Peppercorn in the community of mousedom would be found at last.

For his service in easing the anxiety and raising the spirits and building the camaraderie of guardmouse and workmouse alike, Little Poppy Peppercorn would be inducted into the Mouse Guard on permanent, special assignment: he would travel with them, document their deeds, and tell his tales from walled town to hidden dale, everywhere he went. And he’d have his own colorful cape, at last, so that everyone would recognize the proud, and in his own unique way, heroic … Little Poppy Peppercorn.

Congrats to all of our winners! I’ll be in touch during the first half of this week to get your addresses and mail out your AWESOME prizes!!!!

Keep your eyes here for some more awesome contests in the coming weeks!

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