All Mice Die · the new campaign
Age of the Oak
All mice know magic dies every winter and is reborn transformed every spring. All mice are wrong. For countless generations magic has lain dormant — but this year, things are different. Magic returns, and you awaken not in the holds of your families, but under the boughs of a great white oak.
The dryad speaks
“Tiny figures stood against the evil upon my very roots — tiny figures with great hearts and great courage. By their blood and their sacrifice am I free today. Your people stood with me at the end of their world. Let me stand guard over the future of yours.”
“I vow to offer shelter and succor.”
“Let this age be one of peace, of prosperity, of trust, and of growth.”
“Let this be the Age of the Oak.”
First, a choice
It is year zero. Simple burrows, makeshift housing, little metal, no gold or silver. Your family — blood or found — is united by a creed, and by one decision: do you bind yourselves to the great tree that brought you here, or do you blaze your own path?
Bind to a bloodline
Choose one mark carved into Alba's side. As your blood sinks in, it changes your family — every mouse you make can weight one of the bloodline's trunk stats, and one mouse at a time may branch a step away. Specialists, shaped by the tree.
Stay unbound
No mark, no favorite stat — instead, none of your mice can roll ones on their starting stats. A higher floor for everything, a specialty in nothing. Your path is your own.
The symbol in the bark
Six marks, six bloodlines. Each joins two trunk stats — the core of your family — and reaches one step further to two branch stats. The bloodlines' true names are a secret some of you may yet uncover. You don't have to choose one to apply.
Select a mark to see what that blood carries.
Six classes to start
It's the rock-and-twig stage of the world — only the basic classes exist. More unlock quickly as the campaign grows, and the first mouse to reach 10th level in any class becomes its icon, drawn into the rulebook itself.
Fighter
Weapons, armor, and the discipline to survive the front line.
Guardian
The shield between the family and everything with teeth.
Rogue
Locks, traps, shadows — and knives exactly where they matter.
Wizard
Scroll-torn secrets; alien magic bent to mouse-sized hands.
Druid
The wild’s voice — root and claw, thorn and old growth.
Warlord
A commander’s eye; battles won before the first blow lands.
Your family, your creed
You play a family — blood-related or found — and all the mice that belong to it. Characters die. Families endure.
Your creed is the motto that moves your story forward, and it has teeth: when your words apply, you may invoke them. “Normally I would do this, but because my words are this, instead I'm going to do that.” We could have lied to the rat to get into the tunnel — but it wasn't in our blood to lie. If that choice ratchets up the drama, a heroic invocation can forge it into something more: perhaps even a magic item.
The oak is still waking
Applications are not yet open. Join the Discord to hear the moment Alba starts calling mice to her roots.
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