Poison and Progeny
Snag struggles with a troublesome resident of Dreadmound
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Mites cleared his throat nervously, and scratched at the flaky skin beneath his fur. Snag glowered from his slouched position on the throne.
“I don't wish to hear it,” Snag spat.
“B-but my lord,” Mites protested, “We have to do something!”
“I put her in jail didn't I? My own daughter! Never thought it would come to this.”
“Why don't we press 'er into service?” asked Mites. “The dear young thing certainly does have a knack for violence. Look what she did to those poor caterpillars.”
“I won't tell you no again,” barked Snag. “She's furred mayhem. An army must be an organized, highly-trained and cohesive unit.”
“I don't disagree m'lord,” said Mites with a shrug, “But she needs somethin'. The caterpillars she attacked today have declared war. Where'll she pick a fight next time? We're supposed to be fightin' mice! If we end up at war with all our neighbors we'll be in loads of trouble.” Snag held his face in a paw and moaned.
“How did it come to this Mites?” he asked.
“Years of neglect?” the lackey offered.
“My own daughter – a wild thing with no regard for our values or culture. Is this my fault?”
“Never doubt it m'lord!”
“Am I to blame?”
“Let no one say otherwise!”
“Perhaps we'll never know.” And Snag gave a weary sigh. But his moment of introspection was cut short as one of the prison guards emerged from a tunnel in the rubbish mound, shrieking with hysteria. Foamy spittle dribbled from the rat's mouth, and he thrashed his arms about before collapsing to his knees and getting sick.
“Good heavens!” said Mites. “Why that poor fella, he looks -”
“Poisoned.” Snag finished the sentence through gritted teeth. He sprang from his throne and he and Mites ran into the garbage tunnels that wound down throughout Dreadmound. The passageways were choked with chaos. They passed rats who were doubled over from retching and some who clawed at empty air, their eyes reflecting blind madness. Everywhere there was the stink of sick.
“Where is my daughter?” demanded Snag to a rat who was pinned to a wall by several daggers.
“Down that tunnel Lord Snag,” said the rat, pointing at a tunnel that wormed its way to the rear exit.
“How did she get hold of daggers?” he demanded.
“When she escaped jail, Lord Snag!”
“How did she escape from jail?”
“She used her poison!”
“And how in blazes did she... you know what? Never mind. Idiots!” Snag screamed, and he raced down the tunnel with Mites following closely behind. Righteous fury sent power to Snag's legs and he knocked aside any rat fool enough to be in his way. After a series of twists and turns, the tunnel revealed daylight ahead, but Snag snapped a tripwire that crossed the tunnel, and a wooden stick swung out of the wall. Snag ducked, and the stick slammed into Mites's chest, knocking the smaller rat to the ground. Mites's eyes grew wide and his pupils began to dilate.
“Oh no,” Mites squeaked, and he clapped a paw over his mouth.
“Fools everywhere!” Snag shrieked before turning and leaving Mites behind.
“Don't mind me m'lord!” Mites called out. “I'm just going to stay behind and die for a bit.”
Snag found her walking into the woods as if she was having a nice stroll, and not one bit like an escaped prisoner who had disabled a horde of armed combatants.
“And where do you think you're going?” he demanded. Staborah turned and looked at him with a pained sigh.
“I dunno,” she said. “You know that badger over near the old pond? I was thinking of stabbing him, then leaving a trail that pointed in this direction.” Snag was almost too dumbfounded to speak.
“Good gravy. He would've killed us all.”
“Yeah, probably,” and Staborah gave a disinterested sigh and looked around as if she couldn't be more bored. Snag placed a paw over his eyes and took in a deep breath. He silently counted to ten.
“Daughter,” he said softly, his teeth grinding angrily together. “Would you like to join my army, and, I don't know, perhaps direct your violent behavior toward something that isn't, how shall I say it, me?” Staborah snorted casually, as if the notion was almost too boring to warrant thinking about.
“Yeah, okay,” she said with a shrug, and walked back toward Dreadmound.
Snag shook his head and growled, “I might have to pay the mouse that sticks a sword through her.”
Written by Mr. Bistro.
Mr. Bistro is a writer and game designer for Plaid Hat Games.
Click here to pre-order Tail Feathers today for $15 off the retail price and a special promo Mice and Mystics scenario with initiative and search cards compatible with Mice and Mystics: Downwood Tales!
Tail Feathers Preview Articles
Videos: Video Overview
Week 1: Round Phases, Story Part 1
Week 2: Flight Basics, Aerijin & Zure, Story Part 2
Week 3: Attacking, Grizzard & Snag, Story Part 3
Week 4: Ground Troops, Snibble and Sienna, Valchirp and Wella, Story Part 3
Week 5: Scenarios, Staborah