The Story Behind Ciaran Galedeep (my username)

[Ciaran Galedeep]

this is the beginning of my story, one that takes a lot from some of my favorite characters including
Sunflash and his Kestral
Martin
grath longflecth
ranguvar foeseeker
folgrim
and probably many others that haven't  been mentioned



Current Cast:
-Ciaran Galedeep-sole known survivor of his holt-prone to bloodwrath- zero tolerance for any vermin.
 
Kalath Rattleclaws Redback Shrike female fledging parents killed by ermine Gonaz -berserk fearless warrior

-Arndtclaw Gingervere and Alricspear Gingervere. -two renegade identical wildcat twins, fierce, loyal, and sworn comrades of Ciaran. -Descendents of Gingervere Greeneyes. Grandsires of Squire Julian Gingervere.

-Badger Lord Urthwyte- old Ruler of Salmandastron skeptical of Arndtclaw and Alricspear, Ciaran's two companions, considering both to be overly ambitious and undoubtedly evil.

Gonaz-Ermine- first maimed in the battle with Ciaran and Kalath, goes on to collect hordes of Painted Ones in an effort to wage war on any woodland creatures, but particularly any bird or otter.

Story (so far)

                       Galedeep
A Galedeep shall return, an oath shall wavier;
a seaborne renegade, who has my favor,
the blades that have sat, so peaceful and tranquil,
shall bring vengeance on those who pillage and kill,
One of the Feather, the ruthless will learn pity,
Ya, ya, I know the end of this needs work!,

A lone Creature wandered through the expanses of Mossflower wood. He was a tall well-built Sea Otter, a wayfaring traveler, tough, independent, and above all a loner. Ciaran Galedeep had left his Holt at a young age, tired of the continued restraint from his parents. Having left his peaceful life on the western shores, he returned half a season later to find the Holt deserted. With no clue as to the whereabouts of his kin he left to seek out the answers. Part of his distinction was his father had been a renowned warrior in his time and he was compelled to follow in his father's footsteps as a leader. The other was his singular appearance. Jet-black and over a head taller than most of his , he was a striking figure, but the most extraordinary part of his appearance were his eyes, bright green, flecked with bronze and kindled with such a piercing glow that he made many creatures uneasy whenever they made eye contact. For all his bulk the black otter moved like a shadow in the firelight quick and silent. He trod on; leaving both path and memories of his stern parents in his wake, but the latter seemed to follow. As the seasons progressed from late spring to early fall, the otter made his way northwest across the vastness of Mossflower, knowing in heart that his kin had passed the gates of Dark Forest.
Now as he flitted his way through the woodlands he heard a shrieking racquet. He froze and listened, at least four vermin were mercilessly harassing a nestling. As the big otter slipped from tree to tree, he listened to the voices, a ermine obviously the leader by his winy sneer, yelled "aw common Mudtail get back on your cringing paws and grab that insolent featherbag!" an short pause then a vicious shriek and a fox's yelp of agony. "aaugh, hellgates, Chief that miserable bird skinned my paw! Get back here I'll roast you!" Ciaran had heard enough, exploding out of the shadows like a thunderbolt he crashed into the first of the vermin, grabbing the unfortunate fox around his muzzle and nape of the neck. A sickening snap was the first warning to the other vermin that they had unexpected company. One, quicker than the rest saw the fox's lifeless form crumple to the ground. As his instinct kicked in the ferret lunged for a rusty dirk. As his claws closed around the hilt a sinewy black paw seized the vermin by the wrist and hurled him bodily into the third member of their party, a Vixen. As they fell tangled into a mess of claws, fangs, and hair, Ciaran was upon them with a roar, "Galedeeeeep! Tis death to ya, foul scum!" Deftly the otter's viselike paws turned the ferret's dirk on its owner and companion. As the Otter straitened up the ermine flung a spear at him, it lodged in his shoulder, causing a stab of pain to shoot through his powerful frame from nose to ruddertip. The brilliant green and bronzed eyes blazed scarlet and the muscles bulged under the thick fur as the otter ripped the spear out and batted the ermine across the chest with such force the creature actually left the ground and flew backwards several paw strides into the rowan tree. The last sight the otter had was the mangled form of the ermine at the base of the tree before wavering; he fell backwards with a crash onto the forest floor and was still.
Sprawled at the base of the rowan tree Gonaz the ermine slowly started to recover, as he began to sit up a whirl of feathers, talons, and a ruthless beak fell upon utterly cowed he dove toward the undergrowth. Too late. The vicious, razor-sharp beak of the shrike nestling (Kalath Rattleclaws) slashed across his muzzle, tearing off the his right ear and tracing a long incision down the length of his spine shrieking in agony, the one time leader of the band of vermin took off, far too fast for any fledgling to chase. With raging hiss of frustration the shrike turned to face the task of nursing the unconscious otter.
Two sets of identical paw tracks led east across the open fields by the flatlands, the two cats were identical as the tracks, and though they were not true-blood wildcats, they both had the same fierce countenance as their feared ancestor, Verdauga Greeneyes. Both had spent their life on the farm with their uncle, Fillmore Gingervere. Their uncle had been a great wanderer and fighter, but when their parents both were killed in the cave in the old quarry, Fillmore took the twins as his own. Over the space of eighteen seasons, the twins were taught everything that he knew, in addition to spending several seasons at Redwall where they were taught how to read and write. But against Fillmore's wishes and advice, both Arndtclaw and Alricspear Gingervere took better to fighting than any other trade. So in an attempt to prepare them he had taken them into Mossflower on regular occasions and taught them track and forage. After that they had stayed at the farm long enough to help the last spring preparations then they struck out across the fields.
At high noon the brothers stopped at the banks of the watermeadows for a meal honey oatcakes, dried trout, and elderberry wine, finding a copse of shady trees afterward to sleep through the afternoon heat.

Nine seasons had passed since Ciaran had left the holt, the scared otter flicked through the trees like a wraith. Ciaran hadn't spoken to creature other then the shrike since the day he had saved her, so long ago. The two through their perilous meeting and long recovery had become both inseparable and reclusive, the local woodlanders had healthy respect for them while the vermin hated and feared them. They were the forbidden talk; the stories of their deeds were whispered fearfully around vermin campfire. In all the northwestern area of Mossflower few of the roving bands of vermin  dared to speak of the shadow accompanied by the form of a demon that would tear them apart with talons. None had ever seen the vengeful Ciaran Galedeep or his berserk companion and lived to tell what they were.
Now a trio of foxes menaced a family of field mice, who had just few hours before been quietly snoozing. The two silhouettes loomed up in the shadow of a large oak. With a nod Ciaran signaled Kalath Rattleclaws and she took off, he then slipped in closer, all the time quite as a cloud shadow. Unseen by the Fox and his uncouth companions he listen to their crass dialect.  The Fox, Rottooth Flametail was enjoying himself immensely, not only had they captured a whole group of door mice, the mice were kind enough to maintain a stocked larder. "Well me little mice, I'll be nice and let you live, and in return you'll get to be my slaves! Ain't that right my little cully's? Old uncle Flametail we take car' a ya! Har harhar!"  Even as the fox chuckled at his success at the misfortune of his wretched captives, a shadow fell upon his back. Like a rock falling from the sky Kalath buried both sets of razor sharp talons into the fox's neck. Rottooth barely had time for one agonized gasp before the shrikes powerful talons gave an expert wrench, letting go of the carcass before it even hit the ground.  The two other foxes barely had time to have what was happening to register before the black sinewy paws of Ciaran smashed their heads together, pulping both.  The mice, though spared were in just as much shock as their one time enemies. Even as they watched the otter, Ciaran stooped over the mangled remains of Rottooth and went about the grisly task of disposing of it in the woodlands. As quickly as they had appeared and before mice could even utter their astonished thanks, the two creatures had plunged back into the depths of Mossflower and vanished like a mirage on the flatlands.
"Taint the worst lot we had deal with, eh mate?" Ciaran said as the shrike swept in for a landing. "Aawck, dumb fox be fat, steal lot of food from yon woodlanders. Be dead, good!" Kalath's sharp concise reply drew a dry chuckle from the otter. "Aye Kal me old cully, you said it, dead vermin is good vermin." They sat by a stream. After a while the shrike cocked her head toward the otter. "So Otter, why do you stay? I do not need your help much longer." The shrike's words brought the otters head snapping up from a drowsy stupor, his strange green eyes burned with a red light, even the shrike's sharp eyes turned toward the ground. "Many seasons ago my father spoke to me from the gates of the Dark Forest. He said I was the last one to avenge my kin. This I will do." Ciaran turned away from the shrike, hot tears of fury and sorrow quietly leaking down his face.

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So far that's it Folks!
Any good plot idea/characters?

[Lord Deathblade]

Maybe Ciaran can meet the wildcats and fight them? Only one escapes and names himself Lord Deathblade.

[Ciaran Galedeep]

Maybe Ciaran can meet the wildcats and fight them? Only one escapes and names himself Lord Deathblade.

well the way i'm thinking it will happen is one of the cat twins will become squire gingervere foebaers who has the armerory, while the other becomes his direct ancestor, but is killed off before him reaches old age... possibly his brother takes over from him as the parental figure...

[Dannflower Reguba]

? Wha... I'm affused How about you?

[MatthiasMan]

I'm making a story but I need some advice on names and character. my story is in Danderson Dettenick Dorranfair.