This is a unique RPG. why is it unique? Because it's about anthropomorphized mice.
Yes, mice.
Not humanoid, but they can talk, have societies, and walk on their hind legs(unless they're running).
They also live in a world of danger.
Ya see, just about everything eats mice. Snakes, birds, heck, even some centipedes.
So, what do the mice do? Protect themselves. Hide their villages and forge powerful swords. They train the most resilent of their species to protect the villages, guard them from the threat of predators.
But, there are some real bad stuff on the horizon. The stuff of some of the deepest, darkest legends.
Profiles:
Name: Kent Ardon
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Rank/Profession: Guard
Appearance: Kent wears a grey cape, the symbol of a guard, and has red fur. He is frequently seen with his father's lonsword strapped to his back. He is quite fleet-of-foot, and often employed to scout surrounding areas for predators.
Brief Bio: Kent has always aspired to be a guard, after his father, Deren Ardon, gained fame for fending off an infestation of rats with the help of only twenty mice. His wishes came true when he was recruited to the guard for his agility and bravery. Kent quickly became a full guard, and and enjoys his duty immensely. Otherwise, Kent is a sarcastic, firey-tempered young mouse, who is quick to leap into situation perhaps beyond his ability. Despite this, Kent is quite intelligent.
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I hopped over the branch barring my way. I had been sent to find the wherabouts of a trader, who had been carrying supplies to my home village of Trenholm. Trenholm was named for the hero of old, Kanteran Tren, who had taken on three snakes and lived. Any scout or guard faced with the gravest of danger needed only to shout 'Tren', and help was sure to arrive. I looked up, towards the massive trees. They towered above us mice, but were quite useful as watchtowers. Securing my father's longsword to my back, I ran over to the nearest tree and scrambled up, finding footholds in the knarled bark. There was a tiny spider along the way, but I shooed it away. Nothing that small could hurt a guard. Nothing that small could hurt any mouse. I spotted a low branch extending from the tree, and clambered towards it. One foot slipped. With a gasp, I nearly lost hold on the bark, and for a few moments, my hind legs and tail dangled above the forest floor. I pulled up, and, after a few struggles, managed to regain my footing. I panted for a few seconds, then clambered to the edge of the branch. I looked down, to see if I could spot anything that would hint to the trader's prescence. I did. With a deep breath, praying that it was not what I thought, I sped back down the tree and ran for the site of the large, overtuned cart that was surely the trader's load. I took one look at the grotesque, mutilated remains that lay beside the cart, and turned my head skywards. The wind picked up, and plastered my ears and fur against me, as I took a deep breath.
"TREN!"
