Morelwise, an old, wise Mushroom Gnome with a broad, rippled morel cap, sits atop a red-and-white spotted stool, reading from a tiny book. Nearby, Chanterella, cheerful and golden-capped, weaves garlands of grass, humming a merry tune. Portabella, sturdy and brown with a mischievous glint in his eye, peers out from behind a toadstool, watching for any signs of trouble.
"The sun is bright, the moss is soft, and all is well in Mushwood," she sings out, her voice light as thistledown.
Gargamel[/@ch_4], hunched and sneering, stomps into view, trailed by his slinking cat Azrael.]
Morelwise snaps his book shut, eyes narrowing with concern.
"Aha! A village of Mushroom Folk, ripe for my delicious stew!" Gargamel croaks, rubbing his hands together. Azrael sniffs the air, licking his lips, eyes gleaming hungrily.
Gargamel[/@ch_4] and Azrael set up a bubbling cauldron in a gloomy clearing, smoke curling skyward. Roots and stones are scattered as he opens a battered recipe book, pointing at a drawing of a Mushroom Folk stew. The air grows thick with tension, the trees themselves seeming to shiver.]
"Soon, I'll be rich selling the finest mushroom stew in all the land! Azrael, catch me a gnome—quickly!"
"Meowrrr... They'll taste even better than Smurfs!"
Portabella exchanges a worried glance with Chanterella, whispering urgently.
Morelwise[/@ch_1]'s cozy study, surrounded by shelves of strange spores and glowing fungi. Flickering lantern-light casts warm shadows as they hatch a plan. Several Mushroom Folk produce the stinkiest, most powerful mushrooms from hidden pouches—inky black, spiky, and oozing with a pungent, eye-watering aroma.]
"If evil seeks us for stew, let us give them a taste they won't forget," Morelwise declares, his voice low and resolute.
"We'll sneak these into his cauldron—he'll wish he'd never sniffed a mushroom again!"
"Let's make it so stinky he and his cat catch a cold for a week!" Portabella grins, already stuffing the mushrooms into a woven basket.
Gargamel[/@ch_4]'s camp. The cauldron bubbles ominously, the air thick with the scent of simmering herbs. Tiny hands toss the stinky mushrooms into the pot, then scurry back into the shadows, giggling behind their hands.]
Gargamel lifts the lid, inhaling deeply—then staggers back, clutching his nose, eyes streaming.
"Achoo! What is this horrid stench? Azrael, do something!"
Azrael yowls, sneezing so violently he tumbles into a pile of leaves.
"Let this be a lesson to all who wish us harm—never underestimate a Mushroom Gnome!"
Morelwise smiles, tucking the last stinky mushroom back into his pouch, just in case.
"And now, let's feast on berry pie instead of being stew!"
Laughter rings through the glade, as the Mushroom Folk return to their peaceful, clever ways.
