The central hub for all things Waterwheel Colony, make sure this is the first board you check upon joining! We've got guides to it all.
articles: rules, the mice, classes, skills, combat, setting, bestiary, resources

A catalog of all the colony's residents. To new arrivals - welcome aboard! To old standbys, we're honored to have you.

sub-boards: creation, residents, character trackers, adoptables

Sun, soil, toil. The home of Clan Wheatnose. The garden bed is small by human standards but with appropriate care can yield enough to carry a weary colony through the winter. More than one cold season, this place has proved the only thing to keep the waterwheel colony spinning.

Stacks and stacks of water pots, cement blocks, and bean cans converted to squat homes and chimneys and beds. The scents of cinnamon and close quarters - Winterheap is the home of the Winterwhisker Clan, and of the colony's central trading hub. It is also the safest place on the old farm for a mouse, built as it is under a worktable in the wheelshed, and it is where colonykin retreat to when the weather goes cold.

The tall, lonely pine whose shadow falls over the wheelshed. Though it's only one tree, it's managed to be overgrown, sprouting out of the logs stacked 'round it in a riot of greenery which spills onto the farm path. The feet of the Woodtail mice scuffle along its branches, their humble homes scrabbled into the craggy trunk.

The hollow barn stands ominously down the path, a rusty giant crouched between the water wheel and the farmhouse. A hawk has been spotted on the roof occasionally. Inside, hay and empty stalls offer cool cover. Here and there a scrap of food perhaps, but danger too.

The old farmhouse, stood empty for three seasons now. The dusty yellow ranch house is a treasure trove of old food and helpful items, guarded by a glaring of slinky feral cats eager to snap up any mouse who draws near. They say sometimes in the high heat of day there's human footsteps in the house - but no mouse has seen man here in ages.

The wheat fields that encircle the property go on endlessly, hardly a landmark to speak of save the forgotten skeleton of an old plow. The tall wheat offers cover, but is riddled with dangerous snakes and who-knows-all-else, left untouched by man as it has been. Beware the golden stalks.