The Warren: Polygon Wood
An Actual Play
July - Sept 2016
Rabbits
Michael Siebold |GM
Craig W. |Eik
Jonah E. |Winthrop
The Last Autumn: Part I
And just like that, everything was different. Summer was gone. The Ancient Oak was gone. Holly was gone. And in their places the sour taste of change tainted everything. Sour. Yes, sour. Acrid. Burning sulfur. A tannic twinge that burns the nose. A noxious brew swirled together with the unmistakable scent of man. The woods bristle with fear; inside the warren is no different.
The main chamber had not been dug out since the collapse. Foxtrot deemed it a futile task. The south portal had not been tamped down since the summer rains churned the ground to slick mud. Foxtrot deemed it a meaningless endeavor. Fresh threshing had not been brought in since the arrival of the the new kits. Foxtrot deemed it an unnecessary frivolity. The food stocks had not been bolstered since much was lost to mold. Foxtrot deemed venturing out into the forest too dangerous. Talk of Holly had been kept hushed since the accident. Foxtrot deemed it too troublesome a loss to dwell on. The warren had begun to wither since Foxtrot assumed control.
The crisp air made the tips of Eik’s ears tingle. His nose too. Though he figured he liked it. It meant being outside. And being outside was preferable to spending any more time than necessary in the warren. He had grown tired of the looks and the whispers. Though whispers they could hardly be called any longer. Murmurs. Scheming. Plotting. The tunnels had become an unfriendly place for outsiders. And hardly a day had gone by that Sumac and Toadstool hadn’t reminded him that he was very much an outsider.
Fortunately, Eik did not need much in assurances to feel content. He had a nest to rest his head. He had food, for now. And he had Winthrop. The odd little bunny had quickly become the closest thing Eik had to a friend since, well, since the Girl. But was that even the same? She’d been his keeper. Keepers, no matter how kind, cannot be friends. Winthrop was a friend.
“Hey, Eik?” asked Winnie , craning his neck to the side. “Why’s that funny cloud, so funny?”
“Because, Winthrop. It’s not a cloud.” Eik sniffs, “it’s smoke.”
“Oh.”
Eik props himself up and looks towards the strange monstrosity rising high above the tree line where the Ancient Oak once stood. Taller and straighter than any tree, the structure lorded over the woods like unblinking eye. He sighs, “man.”
“Oh,” Winnie says sadly. “I wish they’d leave the wood.”
“To too Winthrop. Me too.”
Just as the two settle back into their lazy enjoyment of the fall afternoon a shrill cry rolls up from the tunnels beside them.
“Ra - Rats!”
The grey-brown rodent bared his long gnarled teeth and let out a raspy hiss as a panicked Pumpkin backpedals out of the pantry.
“Run along now!” the rat threatened.
The snub-nosed fat rat with the round belly shakes with laughter and muttered something incomprehensible as he packs his cheeks full with seeds.
“Enno. Not with your mouth full,” snaps the grey-brown rat.
“Sorry, Lotte.” The fat rat continues as half chewed seed cascade from his flapping mouth.
The two laugh wheezing laughs as they continue their raid on the warren’s supplies.
Eik arrives first.
Teetering back on his hindquarters, with grubby hands shoveling food into his mouth, Enno’s eyes widen on the rabbit. “Uh! Ergh. Lott-”
Half chewed seeds and grain spray forth from the fat rat as Eik barrels into him. The two tumble across the tiny burrow.
The smaller grey-brown rat bounds out of the fray and backs himself into a corner, “Woah! Watch it, Longears. What’s the big idea?”
Enno, the fat rat, finds himself flung halfway across the burrow with Eik’s large mangled forepaws driving his snub-nosed face into the dirt.
“The big idea?” Eik spits, “The big idea! Dirty thieves. I should drag you out by the tails for the crows!”
“Mrup!” exclaims the fat rat.
Winthrop arrives last and seeing the commotion, “Oh. Hi.”
Lotte, the grey-brown rat, jumps at the arrival of Winthrop. His beady eyes dart between the rabbits. His pink nose twitching furiously. His mind racing for the words.
“Hey. Hey. Can we - ,” Lotte stutters, “Can we just stop for a minute and discuss?
“Heya, Eik?” Winthrop chimes.
“Not. Now.” Answers Eik as he drives the fat rat into the dirt.
“Mruph?” groans the fat rat.
Lotte adjusts his stance, his tiny hands brushing the crumbs from his wee potbelly,“Eik. Eik was it? Let’s talk,” the rat’s words began to flow with a casual ease. “But first would you be so kind as to get off my brother? You’re liable to kill him.”
“Mruph.” sighs the fat rat.
Eik pauses and glares before giving a final hard push against the fat rat and releasing the rodent.
“Ouch!” cries Enno, as he rolls from under the rabbit and to his side.
“Heya, Eik. Foxtrot was uh - ,” tries Winthrop
“No. Now.” Snaps Eik.
Lotte seizes the momentum, “Clearly, you’re both very busy bunnies. My brother and I won’t keep you. In fact, we’ll even see ourselves out.”
Eik steps to the fast talking rat, “No. You won’t.”
Lotte falls back while keeping his cool, “Of course not. Not yet at least. Not before we helped you with your problem, that is.” The rat’s words linger in the air. A baited trap.
Winthrop and Eik in unison, “What problem?”
From the corner, still splayed out on his back, picking food from his teeth, Enno chuckles, “You don’t got enough food.”
Lotte nods grimly, “He’s right. You know it too.”
Winthrop looks at Eik with concern.
Eik glares coldly at the rats.
“And that’s why,” Lotte continues, “you’re going to hear us out. Ain’t that right, brother?”
“Yup.”
Eik’s eyes narrow.
Lotte withers slightly under Eik’s stare, “Ah, yes. To the point. You need food. We know where to get food. Lots of it. A whole winter’s worth and then some. The people-folk farm to the south. Past the stream. Past the road. Past the fence. The farm.”
Winthrop asks worriedly, “The farm? But that’s not for rabbits.”
Eik steps to the grey-brown rabbit, reminding him of his size and strength, “You’re wasting our time, rat.”
“Nope,” interjects Enno from the corner. Sucking at his teeth, “people-folk are gone. Farm’s empty. All yours.”
Lotte nods with an uneasy grin.
“Then why,” grows Eik, “are you here gorging yourself on our food?”
Lotte smirks and shrugs, “It’s just easier.”
Enno laughs a sniggering laugh.
The sound of an approaching troop of rabbits comes from the adjoining tunnel.
“Um. Eik! Foxtrot was lookin’ for you,” spurts Winthrop.
Eik turns to the approaching sound.
The two rats use the momentary distraction to roll out of the way and dart out of the burrow; hissing with laughter the whole while.
A severe looking Foxtrot arrives in the entrance to the food store with his retinue in toe.
“Eik!”, he bellows, “what is the meaning of this! What have you done?”
“Look on the bright side,” Winthrop says cheerfully while bouncing ahead in the crisp autumn afternoon, “at least he’s letting us go to the farm!”
Eik quirks an eye at the plucky rabbit. Is he serious?
“Just think. If those terrible, awful, no-good rats are right we’ll have enough food for the whole warren. He’s bound to welcome you then!”
By the Black Rabbit, he’s serious.
Eik stops in his tracks and addresses his friend plainly, “He wants us dead.”
“Oh, you don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, I think you are being dramatic. Everyone loves you.”
Eik sighs.
“I have an idea,” exclaims Winthrop. “Before we go, let’s scout the farm. You know to make sure the those terrible, awful, no-good rats were right about the man being gone.”
Eik says half surprised, “that’s not a half bad idea, Winthrop.”
“Aw! Thanks,” smiles Winnie. “You know who’d make a great scout. Birds!”
Eik sighs.
“I swore this was the spot,” say Winnie as he props himself up on his rump. Looking around the glade, “should we do the call?”
“I’m not doing the call,” Eik says flatly.
“I think we need to do the call.”
“I’m not doing the call.”
“Okay, let’s do the call.”
Winthrop stands up and croaks out a straining crowing sound.
“OOOLULULULU!”
Winthrop’s ears perk up.
“OOOLULULULU!”
“There they are,” cries Winthrop.
“Joy,” Eik says flatly.
Two familiar bobbing bulbous heads pop out of the brush. Boof and Feast trundle out into the clearing.
“Oye, Boof. Look! Rabbits,” pings Feast.
“Aye, Feast. Yes. Rabbits,” pongs Boof.
The turkeys bob up to the rabbits. They look side-eyed at the pair.
“Hey, Boof? These rabbits.”
“Yeah, Feast. These rabbits.”
“They look familiar.”
“They look familiar.”
Eik erupts, “Yes! Yes. We’ve met before.”
Winthrop smiles, “Hi.”
Boof and Feast turn to one another and nod, “definitely, rabbits.”
Eik turns to Winnie, “You. You talk to them.”
Winthrop nods and with a smile, “Hi, friends. We were hoping you’d help us wit - “
Boosh!
The air cracks with a thunderclap. The sudden smell of burning sulfur fills the air. An explosion of feathers rains down.
Boof lays motionless on the ground in front of the rabbits. His unblinking glassy eye locked to the sky above.
The figure of the soldier at the edge of the glade with rifle raised to his eye comes into focus.
Boosh. A miss.
Run. Everyone run.
Up Next The Last Autumn: Part II
Actual Play by Michael Siebold
The Warren a roleplaying game by Marshall Miller. © 2015 Bully Pulpit Games LLC
“Polygon Wood” playbook written by Jason Morningstar
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